


Will You Stay Just a Little Bit Longer?

by Bedalk05



Series: Yes, You [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Booker | Sebastian le Livre & Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani Friendship, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Humor, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani Needs a Hug, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani is an Incurable Romantic, Kid Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Needs a Hug, Soft Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, They will both get many hugs, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, babysitting au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:29:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 141,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27919774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bedalk05/pseuds/Bedalk05
Summary: Joe is a single father of two wonderful twins. Unfortunately, he has the worst luck when it comes to keeping babysitters long term. Nicky is looking for another job to help pay the rent when he stumbles across an oddly phrased “help wanted” advertisement and decides to call the number. What ensues is far more than what either man could have dreamed.A tale of two lost souls who find each other and, with the help of their meddling friends and two mischievous six year olds, find their happily ever after as well.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Nile Freeman, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Yes, You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2199045
Comments: 709
Kudos: 558





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for brief mention of an off screen original character's death from a car crash as well as past implicit biases and microaggressions regarding hair styles and names.
> 
> That's mostly the extent of the angst in this fic. This is a fluff fest folks!
> 
> This fic was inspired by [this](https://wickedpact.tumblr.com/post/634868393722462208/its-a-beautiful-day-in-the-neighborhood-and-im) post by wickedpact

Joe likes to think he’s a rather okay father. Sure, he’s overworked and messy and never in his wildest dreams expected to be a single father of twins, but he honestly thinks he’s doing a somewhat decent job. That doesn’t explain why their fourth babysitter in so many months just quit on them though. 

Joe sighs, staring down at his six year olds with his eyebrows furrowed in a frown. “Sorry Baba,” Basim whispers, walking forward until his arms are wrapped around his leg. Fuck, Joe can already feel himself softening. 

“I’m not,” Amani declares, little chin tilted defiantly up and curls bobbing on her head. “She was mean about my hair!” 

Joe immediately deflates, running a hand down his face. Of course. Carefully backing up until he’s settled onto their sagging couch, Joe opens up his arms. “Come here habibti, let’s talk about it.” 

10 minutes later, his children have finished filling him in on the countless crimes their babysitter is guilty of, from putting the wrong jelly on their sandwiches to suggesting that Amani would look prettier with straight hair. That last one makes him clench his jaw tight. Lexi was a sweet girl, but like many sweet girls she isn't always aware of how harmful her words can be. 

After reassuring Amani that her hair was absolutely perfect as it is, Joe leans back on his couch with a sigh, racking his brain for what to do. As a teacher, he doesn’t work a normal 9-5. He gets to work too early and leaves too late, not because he doesn’t want to see his kids but because he has countless other kids he’s also caring for. Whether it’s lesson planning or grading or after school clubs or impromptu mentoring sessions, Joe’s job sucks a lot of his time and energy. He loves it, fuck does he love it, but it makes it hard to raise two kids at the same time. 

One more chance. He’s going to give one more babysitter a chance and if it’s a failure, then...fuck, he really doesn’t know. 

*******

Nicky di Genova isn’t a lost soul per se, he’s just...a free flowing spirit. Yeah, let’s go with that. After being forced to join seminary in his father’s attempt to fix his “gayness,” Nicky snuck out one night to drown his sorrows and was taken under the wing of a wildcat named Andy and her wife Quỳnh. With their help, he escaped Italy, the church, and a lifetime of misery. Now, a little over 10 years later and living in the US (despite his hatred of the English language) he’s settled at the married couple's bar, The Old Guard, perusing the “help wanted” section of the paper. Between bartending, tutoring, and the odd job here and there, he’s able to survive but just barely. Sure, if he returned home he would be living a life of financial comfort, but at the expense of his happiness, his freedom. No, he made the right choice.

“What are you brooding about now?” Andy asks, whacking him in the head with the Sports section of the paper. 

“Probably life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,” Quỳnh quips from where she’s pouring a beer before passing it to him. 

“You’re not far off,” Nicky sighs wryly, running fingers through his messy hair. 

“Hey you like kids, right?” Quỳnh queries. When Nicky gives an assenting hum, she points to an ad. 

_Wanted: a patient, kind, and culturally sensitive babysitter for two 5 year old twins, mornings, evenings and weekends. Price to be discussed._

Part of him wonders at the wording of the advertisement. That’s the first time he’s seen “culturally sensitive” in an ad before and he can’t help but wonder what compelled the person writing it to include it. Mentally shrugging, Nicky dials the number. Hopefully this’ll keep him busy for a month or so.

*******

Joe shifts nervously on the park bench, one eye on Amani and Basim as they play on the jungle gym, and one eye searching for the man he spoke on the phone with. His first thought when he got the phone call was _I could listen to you talk for hours_ but he quickly shook that thought away to focus on his goal. He’s been out of the dating scene since Monique died and now’s not the time to consider dipping his toes back into that particular pool.

He brought the kids with him for the job interview this time, something he hasn’t done with the past interviews and which he’s chastising himself about now. Probably could’ve saved them all some trouble. 

Joe’s pulled from his brooding by a man with shoulders to die for, a proud nose, messy brown hair, eyes Joe could draw for hours, and absolutely no fashion sense who is scanning the playground before spotting Joe. Nodding to himself, he strides towards the bench like a man on a mission. “Are you Yusuf?” the man asks, accent as lilting and charming as Joe recalls. 

Joe nods dumbly before clearing his throat and standing, stretching out his arm. “Yes, I’m Yusuf, or Joe. I go by either.” 

The man tilts his head before shaking his hand. “Nicolò, or Nicky. Same goes for me,” he says with a twitch of his lips and a spark in his eye. Suddenly Joe wants nothing more than to find out how to get that man to break into a full smile. 

Shaking his head, Joe calls for his kids. “Amani! Basim! I have someone for you to meet!” he calls. The twins look up from where they are either drawing in the dirt or attempting a demon summoning before they bound over to him. 

“They have beautiful names,” Nicky murmurs, making Joe tense. He’s ready for all the comments he’s heard before. _”So...exotic.” “Seems a bit foreign.” “I’ve never heard those names in English before.”_ But no follow up comment comes. 

Joe releases a slow breath and relaxes his shoulders. “Thank you,” he mutters before releasing an “oomph” as his twins barrel into him. Recovering swiftly, used to such antics, Joe gestures to Nicky. “My little monsters, I would like you to meet Nicky.” 

A pair of brown eyes look suspiciously up at Nicky, narrowing further as the man crouches down to their height. “Hello Amani and Basim, it’s nice to meet you,” he says, reaching out his hand. Joe can’t help grinning. So many past babysitters needed reminding of their names but Nicky remembered them after Joe said them once. Hope he desperately tries to tamp down starts to rise in his chest. 

Basim shrinks back from Nicky, always the shy one, while Amani continues to size him up. “What do you think of my hair?” she demands, chin raised rebelliously. 

Nicky blinks, studying her defensive pout before smoothing out his expression. “I think it looks lovely. Did your father do it?” Joe feels himself blush. He isn’t an expert at doing hair, though he’s endeavored to improve over the past few years since their mother passed. He’s sure Nicky is laughing at his lopsided braids. 

“Yes he did,” Amani says, lifting her chin proudly. 

“Then he must be a hair stylist with that kind of skill,” Nicky exclaims, glancing at Joe with a twinkle in his eyes. Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Joe settles back on the bench, Basim in his lap as he watches his sister interact with the stranger. Knowing it will make his son relax, Joe removes his hat and places it on Basim’s head, heart warming when Basim turns to give him a toothy grin. 

“No he can’t be a hair stylist! My baba is a teacher and an artist!” Amani protests with the fervor only a 5 year old can manage.

“A noble profession,” Nicky nods solemnly. “Are you an artist too?”

As Amani brightens and begins chattering to Nicky about her latest artistic endeavors, including the time she decided their apartment wall would make a good canvas, Basim slowly inches his way closer to Nicky. Spotting him out of the corner of his eye, Nicky’s smile softens. “Do you like to draw too?” he asks, voice lower and gentler than it was with Amani. Joe’s heart clenches. So often people assume that his twins will have similar personalities, and are always taken aback when they see how opposite they can be. Inevitably, Basim is shucked to the side, people assuming that since he's quieter he would need less attention. But he can already tell Nicky is different, alhamdulillah. When Basim nods shyly in response to Nicky’s query, the man says with a smile, “Well, I would love to see your art too at some point.” 

“We didn’t bring any with us but we have lots at home. We can show you! Right baba?” Amani and Basim turn expectant expressions on Joe while Nicky watches him, lips twitching. 

Caught off guard at his children’s enthusiasm and at the prospect of introducing Nicky to the mess of their apartment, Joe blinks. “I suppose it’s up to Nicky. He may have other plans today,” Joe says carefully, flicking his gaze to Nicky.

“What could be more important than studying the works of art these two have created?” Nicky protests, head tilted. Fuck, how does he manage to sound so sincere? So often potential babysitters talk down to his kids or even manage to sound condescending. As that small tendril of hope continues to grow in his chest, Joe grins. “I suppose we have time.” 

*******

Nicky is fucked. Absolutely fucked. Sure, when he spoke to Joe on the phone he immediately was enthralled by how warm his voice was, but he wasn’t expecting the father of twins to be _hot._ The backwards hat should have looked ridiculous but Joe makes it work, even without the leather jacket and paint-splattered jeans. (And since when was jeans covered in paint attractive?) But when Joe placed his hat on his son’s head Nicky feared he would swoon. 

As they walk back to the family’s apartment, Nicky can’t help but notice a conspicuous lack of a ring on Joe’s finger or any mention of a spouse. Divorced? Out of the picture? Nicky supposes it isn’t any of his business. While they walk, Basim and Amani clutch Joe’s hands tightly and Amani asks Nicky not to judge her baba too much for the state of their apartment. Nicky has to bite his lip to keep from laughing as Joe looks utterly mortified and stutters his way through an explanation that losing a babysitter during mid terms has been less than ideal. 

When they enter the apartment, Nicky is greeted by what can only be described as organized chaos. The living room is scattered with toys of all kinds, from barbies to race cars and everything in between. A sagging couch and quilted blanket that looks incredibly inviting rests in the middle of the room while a TV stands precariously upon a bookshelf. 

The kitchen is in a slightly better state. Art materials completely cover what Nicky is guessing is supposed to be a kitchen table, but he’s relieved to see that there are no dirty dishes attracting flies and rats scattered around. Unsurprisingly, the refrigerator is absolutely covered in children’s artwork, as is most of the wall space. 

Nicky is startled from his assessment of the apartment by a meow and some movement by his feet. Looking down, he smiles at the black and white cat rubbing its face against his boot. “And what are you called?” Nicky croons, crouching down to offer his hand to sniff.

“Cow!” a voice chirps. 

Nicky raises an incredulous brow at Joe, who looks slightly pained. “I let the kids name her,” he mumbles, reaching his hand to his head as though to adjust the hat that is no longer there and blinking when he realizes this. Nicky has to stifle another laugh. God, could this man be more endearing? 

“Her name is Cow because she has black and white spots,” Basim whispers to him from where he’s pressed against Joe’s leg, oversized hat resting proudly upon his head. 

“A very fitting name,” Nicky nods gravely before he finds himself tugged to the kitchen. 

“These are our drawings,” Amani says, voice filled with excitement as she plops down in a paint-splattered chair. Oh dear, is there any surface that hasn’t been a victim of art? Sitting beside her, Nicky allows Amani to talk him through her process before he turns to where Basim is now seated on his other side to ask after his. A quiet child himself when he was young, Nicky knows how easily one can be shucked to the side, even unintentionally. Joe seems far from a father who would do that, but Nicky can’t assume the same for past babysitters. Basim cracks his first smile as he shows Nicky a drawing of Cow in that adorably clumsy children’s hand. At Nicky's enthusiastic response, Basim crawls further out of his shell, excitedly telling Nicky about Cow's favorite toys and games with interjections by Amani and, yep, Nicky is officially in love. He's bowled over by these two marvelous children, filled with so much passion and enthusiasm and light. He's done the odd babysitting and tutoring gig before and sure, he enjoyed himself but he'd never felt so immediately drawn to the kids he worked with as he is now, like a magnet to its matching force. (Nor did he ever feel drawn to their parents but that's a whole other matter.) 

“So which of these amazing drawings are your baba’s?” Nicky finally asks, praying he’s pronouncing the word right. Joe’s head shoots up from where he’s frantically cleaning the living room, a disarming smile crossing his face. _I could spend the rest of my life making you smile,_ Nicky thinks to himself faintly before shaking that thought away. No, he refuses to fuck this job up. Piecing together comments made by the kids and Joe, they’ve had trouble keeping a sitter long term and this family deserves to have that stability. He can’t imagine why there’s been such turnover though. Sure, there’s a spark of mischief in Amani’s eyes in particular, but chaos is the spice of life. 

“I’ll go get one of Baba’s sketchbooks!” Amani calls, racing out of the room and ignoring Joe’s weak protests. 

Walking into the kitchen, carrying a doll that has gone through an extreme makeover to say the least, Joe sprawls into the spare seat across from Nicky, and dammit that shouldn't look so appealing. Winking at Basim Joe says dramatically, “I certainly can’t compete with these little maestros.” When Amani comes marching back in brandishing a worn sketchbook, Joe's eyes widen and he groans. “Amani what have I said about going through Baba’s things?” 

“You go through my things! Why can’t I go through yours?” is the petulant response. When Joe opens and shuts his mouth before visibly softening, several things click into place. Oh dear. This man loves his children so much he lets them walk all over him, doesn’t he? Poor man. 

Terrible parenting habits aside, Nicky can’t help but feel utter fondness as he watches Joe interact with his daughter. It's clear he adores them both with every fiber of his being, even if they are determined to run him ragged.

When Amani proudly hands Nicky the sketchbook, he looks at Joe warily as the other man's smile fades. “I don’t wish to pry Amani. Your baba may not want to share this art.” 

Joe’s guarded expression melts slightly, eyes wide as he stares at Nicky. “Umーwellー” Shaking his head and _god_ this man is adorable when he’s flustered, Joe shrugs. “You might as well flip through it at this point. It seems like everyone else in this household has,” he adds, shooting his children a disapproving look. 

Humming, Nicky nods. “Later we may need to talk about respecting each other’s privacy, sì?” he asks Amani with a raised brow. Joe turns to him, surprised, while Amani looks slightly uncertain, flicking her gaze between Joe and Nicky. 

Recovering swiftly, the rambunctious thing, she shrugs and clambers back into her chair, gesturing to the book. “Go take a look!” she urges. 

“He’s very good,” Basim adds with a shy smile. 

Shooting Joe a small smile and deciding to table the conversation about privacy for later, Nicky opens the sketchbook, his eyes immediately widening. Given the fact that he was getting the accounts of six year olds talking about their father, Nicky reasonably believed that their praises of him were an exaggeration. He was very wrong. He can feel the love and passion that went into each sketch, each stroke of the hand. From landscapes to still art to figures, every drawing is bewitching. Amani, Basim, and even Cow (Nicky snorts to himself at such a ridiculous name) are the most frequent images of course, though they look younger in these pages. It seems Joe has drawn them in every position imaginable, whether they're eating, sleeping, playing, or drawing. “These are incredible,” he breathes, flipping to one of the final pages and pausing. He lifts a hand to trace the image of a beautiful woman with laughing eyes and a riot of curls before pulling back, not wanting to smudge it. 

“That’s Monique,” Joe says quietly, “Their mother.” Nicky looks up, eyes wide as he takes in Joe’s expression, shadowed and distant. Glancing over to the children, they both have gone quiet and solemn, staring at their father with wide eyes. “She passed three years ago,” Joe says, clearing his voice as it cracks. “Car crash.” 

Nicky’s heart aches at the phantom pain etched in Joe’s face, and before he can stop himself he’s reaching out, squeezing Joe’s hand. “I’m terribly sorry for your loss,” he murmurs, turning to the children as he speaks as well. 

Joe’s hand spasms before he’s gripping Nicky in return, shooting him a weak smile. “Thanks Nicky.” Shifting awkwardly, aware that the mood has been brought down, Nicky turns with a new perspective to the two children who have experienced loss far too soon. Joe is doing the same and with a soft sound he’s up and rounded the table, scooping up both of his children with an impressive show of strength and carrying them to the couch as they cling to his neck. “I think some cuddling is in order,” he announces, settling onto the couch and straightening his son’s hat with a soft smile as his children tuck themselves on both sides of him. 

Nicky rises, knowing a dismissal when he hears one, and starts heading to the door. “Nicky?” He pauses, turning to Basim with a small frown. The boy fidgets, biting his lip as he looks at Nicky with wide dark eyes. “Do you not like cuddles?” 

Nicky’s heart breaks at the uncertainty tinging the brave boy’s voice and without a second thought he strides over. “Of course I love cuddles passerotto, I just did not wish to disturb you,” he says fervently, sinking to his knees to gaze up at the boy. 

“Baba says everyone deserves hugs and cuddles,” Amani whispers, little fingers playing with her father’s hand as she matches her brother's shyness for the first time all afternoon. 

Nicky turns an uncertain gaze to Joe, who looks far too small and vulnerable. “I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable Nicky,” he demurs, eye averted, but Nicky shakes his head with an impatient sound. 

“Nonsense. How could I be uncomfortable with such lovely company.” Straightening, Nicky settles on the couch beside Basim, smiling down at the boy as he studies Nicky with a conflicted look on his face. Nodding firmly to himself after a moment, Basim carefully climbs into Nicky’s lap, snuggling against his chest. Nicky’s eyes widen at the show of trust in the shy boy before he gently wraps his arms around him, ignoring how the hat lid digs into his chest. With a meow, Cow jumps into the vacated space, purring as she rubs against Joe’s leg. Joe for his part is staring wide-eyed at Nicky, though he can’t quite interpret the man’s expression. 

“We can’t cuddle from all the way over there!” Amani protests, before unceremoniously dropping Cow to the floor, dragging her father so he’s pressed against Nicky, and plopping herself into Joe’s lap. Nicky has to bite down on yet another laugh as Joe sends him a sheepish smile, shrugging helplessly. 

Lips twitching, Nicky nudges Joe’s shoulder. “Your children are certainly forces of nature,” he comments, heart fluttering when Joe breaks out into a grin that lights up his whole face. 

“They’re little monsters are what they are!” he exclaims, tickling Amani as she shrieks and giggles, kicking her legs out and calling for Basim to help her. As Basim stands up to tug on Joe’s arm in an attempt to save his sister, Nicky finds himself laughing at this marvelous family’s antics while he silently screams. Oh he is _fucked._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Habibti:_ Feminine form of “habibi” meaning “my love” but can be used for friends and any family member  
>  _Alhamdulillah:_ Praise be to God, thank God  
>  _Passerotto:_ Little sparrow, an Italian term of endearment for children


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicky seems like a perfect match for Basim and Amani. But will he be scared off before he can fully start? (The short answer? No.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this fic has officially sunk its claws in me and isn’t letting go, to the point that I woke up at 3:00AM and couldn’t fall back to sleep because several scenes for this chapter popped into my head. So have a chapter far sooner than I expected. Thank you all of your kind feedback, it's an incredible motivator! 
> 
> Chapter warnings for discussion about grief/trauma and anxiety attacks that end with lotsa softness. If you would like more details, check the end notes for a break down. 
> 
> (Also, I upped the chapter count because as any of my readers from The Witcher fandom can attest to, I SUCK at chapter estimates.)

_I realise we never actually discussed hours and payment yesterday. Would you be able to swing by today so we can talk details?_

Joe stares at the open text message for far too long, waiting for those fated three dots before throwing his phone to the side with disgust. Yesterday was...not at all what Joe expected when he put that desperate ad in the paper. Nicky is funny and charming and sweet and thoughtful and if Joe wasn’t about to hire him and was looking to date he would ask him out immediately. As it stands, he needs to reign this ridiculous schoolboy crush in before the kids notice; they’re far too perceptive for their own good. 

When Nicky left yesterday after giving his number to follow up, Joe sat Amani and Basim down to hear their thoughts about their potential new babysitter. He has a large nose and a nice smile according to Basim and he laughed at Amani’s attempt at a joke so apparently they’re happy to move forward. If only they were so easy to please every day. 

Joe is about to turn back to the paper he was grading when his phone buzzes. Launching across the couch to pick it up, Joe grins when he sees who it’s from. 

**Nicky di Genova** _Sure, what time works?_

Joe forces himself to wait another minute before he finally responds. Once they decide on a time in the evening so they can discuss “adult things” without prying ears, Joe sets his phone to the side. With one eye on his mischief makers as they reenact their favorite episode of Paw Patrol, Joe returns back to his students’ essays. If there are no crises, maybe he’ll be able to get through the rest of them before tonight.

*******

When Nicky knocks on the apartment door at 8:00, he’s greeted by a haggard-looking Joe. Despite his obvious exhaustion, the other man sends him a weak smile. “Hey Nicky, come on in.” As he slowly closes the door, Nicky follows Joe to the kitchen table that has been cleared of some of the art materials. Now that Nicky can see the table underneath the scattered papers and materials, he notes with amusement that it’s as paint splattered as the rest of the apartment. 

As Nicky takes a seat, Joe slumps down in the one opposite him, scrubbing his face for a long moment. “Are you alright Joe?” Nicky can’t help but ask.

Joe lowers his hands and releases a long sigh, leaning back in his chair to cross his arms. “Yeah, just had a lot of grading to do and then Amani and Basim had a fight over who gets to be Marshall which culminated in them hugging and crying in each other’s arms, so just a typical day in the Al-Kaysani household,” he rambles with a huff of laughter and a head shake, running his fingers through his hair.

Nicky blinks as he takes all of that in. For some reason, the first thing he thinks to respond with is, “Marshall?” 

Joe flashes him a slightly more genuine smile than the one he greeted Nicky with at the door. Sitting straighter, he holds up a finger and rifles through the pile of papers before pulling out one with a triumphant “Aha!” Smoothing the crumpled sheet before him, Joe folds his arms on the table. “I have a list of things to cover but first I want to establish some hours.”

“The ad said mornings, evenings and weekends. My schedule is fairly flexible, I bartend but my bosses like me so I can work something out if my shifts ever conflict,” Nicky says with a crooked smile. 

“And you sure we haven’t scared you off yet?” Joe asks, light tone belied by his guarded expression. 

“On the contrary,” Nicky murmurs, watching Joe from beneath his eyelashes. Joe stares at him for a long moment, mouth gaping open before he shakes his head and clears his throat awkwardly. Nicky shifts in his seat, averting his gaze. Fuck, he didn’t mean to flirt with the poor man, it’s just so hard not to. _Pull yourself together di Genova,_ he growls to himself. 

As Joe lays out a proposed schedule, Nicky nods along until he gets to the amount he’ll pay per hour. “I’m sorry?” Nicky squeaks, certain he heard wrong. But when Joe repeats it, Nicky sits back in his chair with wide eyes. “That’s far too much for a babysitting gig,” Nicky protests, but Joe stands his ground. 

“I have two children which means double the work, and they are my entire world,” he says firmly. “They need stability and I have the money from–” Joe cuts himself off before shaking his head. “I have the money and I’m willing to pay it for the safety and wellbeing of my children,” Joe states, and Nicky’s heart swells with affection for this man. He knows with absolute certainty that the man before him would move heaven and earth for his children.

Blowing out a breath Nicky nods reluctantly. “I feel guilty taking so much of your money but if you insist I won’t fight you on it,” Nicky says with a quirk of his lips. 

The intensity brimming off of Joe simmers down until he’s back to his affable self. “Thank you,” he nods with a smile, before spinning the paper so it’s facing Nicky. “This is everything you need to know. I’ve written down the times they need to be dropped off and picked up from preschool, their favorite foods and the foods they will throw a tantrum about if you place it in front of them–” Joe cuts himself off to look at Nicky solemnly. “I underlined the jelly. For all our sakes, please use the correct kind.” Nicky blinks, bemused by the comment but nods for Joe to continue. It’s endearing; everything Joe is saying is written in his neat script on the paper but he still feels compelled to go through it with Nicky. And only a teacher would have a babysitting list color coded with a key to match each kid individually as well as their overlapping likes and dislikes. God, that shouldn’t be so damn adorable.

Flipping the page over, Joe continues down the list. “I have their favorite toys and TV shows though _please_ no more than a half hour of TV each day. Paw Patrol is their favorite show and Marshall is their favorite character, hence the tantrum earlier,” he explains with a rueful smile. Nicky has never heard of Paw Patrol but he’s certain both children will be overjoyed at the prospect of catching him up. “I have tricks and tips if there is any tantruming or fights, directions to their favorite park, and emergency numbers in case I don’t answer the phone for some reason. I also already have a spare key made from past sitters. I’m sure there’re things I’m forgetting but–” Nicky reaches out to place a soothing hand over the rambling man’s anxiously tapping fingers. Joe freezes as he runs his free hand through his already tousled hair, staring wide-eyed at where their fingers are linked. 

Pulling back self-consciously, Nicky flashes him a reassuring smile. “If there’s anything you have forgotten or any questions I have, we have each other’s numbers.” 

Joe slumps before nodding. “Yes, of course I just–” he shrugs helplessly, staring at Nicky with those deep eyes that hold so much emotion. “I just really like you and the kids already love you and I _really_ want this to work out.” Nicky flushes at the compliment before he tenses with panic as Joe’s eyes shine a tad too brightly. “They’ve just been through so much already and I want to give them the world and if I was a better father I would give them more of my time but my students also need me and I can’t abandon them–” Nicky stands and rushes over to Joe’s side as tears start flowing down his cheeks. “ _Fuck_ I’m such a mess I’m so sorry Nicky–” 

But Nicky just shushes him, guiding the poor man over to the couch. “There is nothing to apologize for Joe,” he soothes, wrapping his arms around the man as Joe’s shoulders shudder from his silent sobs, afraid to wake up his children. “You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Let me help unload you a bit, hmm?” Almost unconsciously, Joe presses his forehead to Nicky’s shoulder and Nicky hums an old song as he strokes his fingers through Joe’s hair.

“I’m pretty sure this isn’t in your job description,” Joe finally croaks, making Nicky’s lips twitch. Even distraught the man can crack a joke. 

“I believe the job description asked for someone kind, patient, and culturally sensitive. I think comforting you can fall into one of those categories easily.” Joe tenses at Nicky’s words and a flash of panic rushes through him. Fuck, what did he say?

“Speaking of,” Joe sighs. “We’ve had a problem in the past with babysitters saying and doing things that–” Joe falls silent before trying again. “Doing and saying things that can have a serious impact on a child’s self-perception and pride in their culture so just一” he cuts himself off again with a frustrated growl, slumping further. “I don’t know what I’m asking,” he mutters. 

Nicky’s eyes widen with understanding and a fresh wave of sorrow crashes over him for this family. “I’m sorry they have gone through that,” Nicky murmurs. “I promise that I will do my best to be respectful and conscious of my words and actions. If I ever step out of line I hope you will tell me so I can apologize and learn and be given another chance if it's nothing unforgivable.” 

Joe tilts his head to the side so he can meet Nicky’s eyes. “Thank you,” he whispers. As they gaze at each other, Nicky feels as though he’s staring down a barreling train. Fuck, this isn’t just some passing fancy; this is something far deeper. He wants to know Joe. Know his doubts and fears and joys, his successes and failures and triumphs. Wants his new life’s mission to be making him smile every day, wants to watch Joe's curls grow wilder and wilder as he runs his fingers absentmindedly through them. Wants to laugh as Joe ruins another piece of furniture or clothing from his paints and wants to admire and praise each and every piece of art he creates. Wants to hold him and love him and give him and his children everything they deserve and more.

Swallowing down the painful longing bursting through his chest, Nicky cradles Joe’s face in his hands, watching as the other man’s eyes flutter shut for a moment before opening to stare at Nicky once again. “You are a good father Joe and a caring teacher. It’s not your fault that your heart is big enough to love every child you encounter.” Because that’s the problem, isn’t it? Nicky can see it clear as day. Joe would never be able to turn his back from a student in need, whether they’re panicking over a deadline or going hungry. “You are a good man Joe Al-Kaysani,” Nicky says firmly. “Let me help carry your load.” 

As Nicky finishes his speech, Joe closes his eyes, clutching Nicky’s wrists and leaning forward so their heads press together. “I don’t know what brought you into my life but I am thankful for it,” he whispers.

Nicky can’t resist brushing his fingers across Joe’s furrowed brow. “Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”

*******

Joe is woken up by a very familiar finger poking him in the cheek. Letting out a sleepy groan, Joe peels open an eye to find two very curious gazes staring down at him. “Baba did you and Nicky have a sleepover?”

Eyes widening as he processes that he’s on the couch curled around his babysitter Joe leaps up with a yelp. “Shiiii-take mushrooms!” He shouts, staring at a slightly bemused and sleep-mussed Nicky before fleeing into the bathroom. 

The last thing he hears before he slams the door is a grave voice saying, “Shiitake mushrooms are Baba’s favorite food,” and what sounds like a _snort_ in response. Thumping his head back against the door, Joe closes his eyes with a groan. There’s no way in hell Nicky is willing to keep this job after his breakdown last night and then him falling asleep on the poor man. Sighing defeatedly, Joe resigns himself to finding a new babysitter before stepping into the shower.

After showering and banging his head against the shower wall a couple more times, Joe wraps a towel around his waist and steps out of the bathroom before freezing. Nicky is still there. Nicky is still there as he cooks something that smells absolutely _mouthwatering_ and smiles at Joe’s children chattering to him and acting far too chipper for the hour. He’s assaulted by the sudden and overwhelming wish to witness this sight every morning before Joe shakes his head. For all he knows, this is Nicky being kind before he leaves their lives forever. 

Nicky must have caught the movement out of the corner of his eye though because he turns to look at Joe before his eyes widen and rake down Joe's chest. Blushing, suddenly very aware that he’s half naked, Joe makes a rapid retreat for the second time that morning. 

As he dresses for work Joe gives himself a pep talk. “Okay, just ask if he’s willing to do a trial run,” he mutters to himself. Staring at his reflection as he fluctuates between two button downs, wondering which one goes better with his eyes, Joe releases a disgusted sound and rebelliously chooses a loose Henley and flannel instead before firmly placing his favorite hat on his head to complete the lazy look. “Just apologize for all the lines you crossed last night and reassure him that it won’t happen again,” Joe nods to himself, fingering the ring dangling from the chain around his neck. He takes a deep breath. “And whatever you do don’t swoon at his bed head.” As ready as he’ll be, Joe takes a few more breaths before striding out of his room to face the music. 

When he enters the kitchen, Nicky flashes him one of those small smiles before handing Joe a mug of coffee. “My assistants told me how you like it so I hope we got it right,” Nicky announces, eyes twinkling as he glances at two eager faces. 

Joe internally groans, remembering his children’s attempts to make him coffee for Father’s Day. “That was very kind of you, my little monsters,” Joe says, ruffling their hair before taking a sip and schooling his face so he doesn’t spit it out. If Nicky’s twitching lips are any sign, he doesn’t do as well as he was hoping. 

“Well?” Basim asks, bouncing on his toes. 

“Delicious!” Joe exclaims, beaming down at his children, because how can he not? Even if they’re trying to give him an early heart attack with the amount of sugar they poured into the mug, Joe is so full of love for his children who care enough to attempt to make him something that he can't be compelled to care. 

“I hope you like omelettes,” Nicky murmurs as he sets down two plates before pouring milk in two bowls of cereal that are already set up at the table. Joe blinks at the table, registering for the first time that he can actually see it. “Don’t worry, I moved all the art materials somewhere safe. I didn’t want to ruin them while we eat,” Nicky says, somehow reading Joe's mind as he deftly cuts up two bananas before placing them beside the kids’ bowls. As the twins pout, Nicky simply raises a brow.

Sitting beside Joe, Nicky takes a bite of his breakfast, eyeing him. “If you don’t like omelets I won’t be insulted,” he remarks with amusement. 

Joe finally blinks out of his daze, still processing the fact that he can see his table and he has something more substantial than a granola bar in front of him and his kids are eating their bananas without a fight?? “Who are you and where did you come from?” He breathes, wide eyed.

Nicky looks at him with a bemused smile. “I thought you did a thorough background check on me already,” he says playfully, nudging their shoulders together. Joe barks out a laugh, shaking his head incredulously. How the fuck did this man enter his life? Before Joe can process any further or apologise for last night, his warning alarm goes off. Cursing silently, Joe shovels the food down his throat, groaning at how _delicious_ it is before jumping up, kissing his kids on the head, fumbling for his briefcase, and bolting out the door with a shouted thank you. 

*******

Nicky blinks at the whirlwind exit of the man he has finally accepted he has a huge crush on. Waking up to Joe curled around him had Nicky’s heart fluttering more than it did when he had his first crush. And when he saw his bed head Nicky was sure he would swoon this time. _Then_ he feared he was going to burn breakfast when Joe walked out of the bathroom with water dripping down his body and a towel slung low on his hips, but fortunately at that point Basim asked Nicky to reach the sugar and he was able to blink out of his lust-filled haze. Nicky is absolutely and irrevocably _fucked._

He glances over at the empty plate beside him, a curl of pride filling his chest at how much Joe seemed to enjoy his omelette. Though Nicky doesn’t know how he managed not to choke on his own meal listening to the sinful noises the other man made as he ate. He’s so fucked. 

When Nicky looks back up he’s faced with two pairs of very curious eyes. Affecting nonchalance, he takes a sip of his coffee. Unfortunately as he does Amani pipes up, “Are you and Baba dating?” Choking and sputtering as his coffee goes down the wrong hatch, Nicky hacks up a lung before he stares wide-eyed at the two twins, heads tilted as they watch him with matching expressions.

“No I’m not. I’m your babysitter and that would be very unethical,” Nicky finally gasps as he tries to regain his composure. 

“What does unethical mean?” Basim asks while Amani presses, “But do you _want_ to date our baba?” 

Pinching his nose, not nearly caffeinated enough to have this conversation, Nicky shoots them a strained smile. “Your baba is a very wonderful man but we will not be dating.” Nicky curses at his inability to lie to those big doe eyes, starting to understand why Joe crumples under the force of them; they’re lethal weapons. Amani’s eyes narrow before she releases an adorable harumph and turns back to her cereal. 

“You make Baba smile a lot,” Basim whispers as he moves his bananas around his plate in an obvious ploy to make it look like he’s eaten more than he has. So his sister isn’t the only mischievous one, Nicky notes with utter adoration. 

“He makes me smile too,” Nicky says softly. Then, in typical six year old fashion, the twins rapidly lose interest and change the topic to something entirely different. Nicky slumps in his chair with a relieved sigh as he listens to them chatter about Paw Patrol and very obviously ignore their plate of bananas. Nicky hums to himself. Looks like he has his work cut out for him. 

*******

Joe is a nervous wreck when he gets to school, running through his head anything he may have forgotten to tell Nicky and still reeling from the mortification of last night and this morning. 

“Hello? Earth to Joe?” Joe blinks up from where he’s doing last minute prep to scowl at a smirking Booker. “What’s got you in a tizzy this morning?” He asks, sitting on Joe’s desk like the prick he is. 

Tugging his papers from under his stupid ass Joe mumbles, “New babysitter.” 

Booker’s eyebrows shoot up. “Isn’t this babysitter number four this year?”

“Number five,” Joe mutters under his breath, glowering when Booker leans forward, cupping his ear like he didn’t hear him. Gritting through his teeth Joe repeats, “Number five.” 

Booker beams, slapping his leg victoriously. “I won the bet then.” When Joe stares at him with incomprehension Booker’s smile grows impossibly wider. “Nile and I had a bet that you would run through more babysitters this school year than last year.” 

Joe groans. He forgot that the same thing happened last year. Over the summer he doesn’t hire sitters, just takes care of the kids himself so he forgets how _hard_ it is to retain one. Now he’s in the fifth month of school and already at the fifth babysitter. Of course Nile and Booker would be making a bet about that. “I regret ever introducing you two,” Joe grumbles, rolling his eyes at Booker’s exaggerated gasp.

“You wound me my friend.” Jumping down from the desk, the history teacher claps Joe on the shoulder, turning serious for the first time all morning. “It’ll be okay Joe, keep breathing.” 

Joe nods, flashing Booker a weak smile. “Tell Nile I say hi and I promise to get together soon.” 

Booker and Nile have known each other since Monique died and Joe became nearly catatonic before falling down a panic spiral as he fully processed the fact that he was a single father. Booker is familiar with grief, having lost his high school sweetheart a few years earlier, and was determined to not let Joe follow down the same path as him. He practically moved himself in at the very start, sleeping on Joe’s couch while Joe got back on his feet and taking care of the kids when looking at them reminded Joe too much of his loss. 

One day Nile came by, needing to get away from the weight of grief hanging like a heavy cloud over her house. Honestly, Joe’s apartment wasn’t any better but being near the twins seemed to brighten her constitution a bit. Well, that and Booker’s particular brand of humor. After that day, Nile would come by more and more frequently, and the three of them slowly worked to heal together. To be frank, he doesn’t know how he would have survived the first year without them. 

They’re the closest people in his life, though some days they seem closer to each other, not that Joe faults them. Joe isn’t quite sure what they are to each other by now. Friends, friends with benefits, dating. Anyway, it’s not Joe’s business; they’re adults and they'll share with him if they want to. 

Sighing, Joe furtively checks his phone, slumping when there’s no notifications. Shoving it in his pocket and shaking his head to clear it, Joe readies himself to face the day. 

*******

When Joe stumbles into the apartment that night, Nicky smiles up from where he’s cooking some sauce for tomorrow. “Hello Joe. The kids are in their room getting ready for bed,” Nicky says as Joe drops his bag unceremoniously on the ground. 

Shooting him a tired smile Joe murmurs, “Something smells delicious.” Pausing he adds shyly, “Thank you for sending those photos. It helped.” Nicky smiles down into the sauce, continuing to stir it. He could sense the other man’s nerves with having another new sitter, so Nicky sent him photos as he dropped off the twins, picked them up, and entertained them in the afternoon. He’s glad that it helped. 

Recalling their activities this afternoon Nicky says offhandedly. “I meant to ask, are there car seats I can use if I ever want to drive them somewhere?”

“NO!” Joe whisper-shouts, startling Nicky into dropping his spoon. 

He turns to frown at Joe only to find the man staring at him wildly, chest rising and falling far too rapidly. 

Fuck. Of course. His wife died in a car crash, what was he thinking? “Okay Joe, okay I won’t drive them anywhere,” Nicky soothes, slowly approaching Joe like he’s a wounded animal. When Joe’s breathing seems to quicken to the point that he’s hyperventilating, Nicky grasps his hands tightly. “Joe name for me five things you see,” he calmly orders. 

Joe’s breath stutters and he swallows spasmodically before shifting his gaze around the room, still panting. “Refrigerator,” he gasps. Nicky nods encouragingly. “Um. Pot. T-table. Chair.” Suddenly he turns to Nicky, eyes piercing. “You.” 

Nicky swallows, feeling bared open by that gaze. “Good,” he nods. “Four things you feel.” 

“My socks,” Joe says after a hesitation, and as he does his breath starts to slow. “Hat. Necklace.” His eyes haven’t left Nicky as he lists the items. “You,” he breathes. 

“Three things you hear?” Nicky whispers.

Joe closes his eyes, hands clenching tightly around Nicky’s. “Cow snoring. The kids talking.” He opens his eyes again. “You breathing.” 

At his words Nicky feels his breath catch before he swallows dryly. “Two things you smell?” Nicky rasps. 

“Your sauce that I’m letting burn.” Nicky takes it as an encouraging sign that Joe is attempting to joke. “Your cologne.” 

“One thing you taste?” Does Nicky imagine that Joe’s eyes flick to his lips? 

“The granola bar I ate earlier.” At this point Joe’s breathing has finally steadied back to normal and his shoulders have relaxed slightly. 

“Good,” Nicky smiles, squeezing Joe’s hands reassuringly. “Why don't you sit down and I’ll make you some chamomile tea, hmm?”

Without a sound, Joe shuffles over to the table and slumps into a chair like a puppet who lost its stings. “I’m–“ 

“I swear if you say you’re sorry I’m going to keep all this sauce to myself,” Nicky threatens, brandishing his spoon and smiling to himself when that earns him a huff of laugher. 

“Heaven forbid,” Joe murmurs. 

Once the tea boils he pours them both a cup and sits across from Joe, studying his downcast gaze for a long moment. “Trauma is a very real thing Joe and something you never need to apologize for,” he finally says quietly. 

Joe takes a slow sip of his tea. “You act like you speak from experience,” he finally whispers, flicking his gaze up to study Nicky. 

Now it’s Nicky’s turn to look down, staring at his tea for a long moment before taking a fortifying sip. “If someone quotes the Bible I need to hide in a corner for awhile and remember how to breathe and tell myself that I’m not back under my father's thumb. That’s what can happen when the presumed words of god are used against you as a weapon,” he rasps, clutching his drink tightly. Nicky flinches as a hand touches his. Joe begins to retreat with another apology on his lips but Nicky snaps out his hand to catch it. He smiles weakly, brushing his thumb across Joe’s knuckles. 

A silence falls upon them, not tense but not quite comfortable either. Finally Joe opens his mouth. “Are you–“

“Yes. I’m gay.” 

“Rainbow flag unite,” Joe says with a weak smile, shrugging when Nicky stares at him curiously. “Bi,” he says, gesturing to himself with his free hand.

 _Fuck._ And here Nicky thought he was crushing on a straight man. He could have lived with that but knowing that Joe is into men? Things just got a lot harder. Swallowing down the desperate words that want to bubble up, Nicky racks his brain for something to say when Amani and Basim come trotting back out in their attempts at pajamas. Nicky mentally groans. Good to know they’ll need supervision in the future if he wants them to be wearing clothes that aren’t inside out and backwards.

Turning at the sound of their pattering feet, Joe gathers his children in his arms and burrows his face in their curls for a long moment, clearly still centering himself. Ignoring the twins’ squirming, Joe finally recovers enough to smack a wet kiss on both of their foreheads, grinning at their disgusted expressions. “And what took you two so long, hmm?” he asks with a raised brow. “Here your baba is waiting, bemoaning the fact that his own children have already forgotten about him after one day with their new babysitter!” he exclaims, sprawling dramatically in his seat. 

Nicky’s lips quirk up as the twins protest loudly and clamber into their father’s lap. “We didn’t forget you, Baba!” Basim says with wide doe eyes.

“Of course not! We were just having a very serious discussion,” Amani informs them with a nod. 

Joe swaps amused glances with Nicky. “About what?”

“Which book to read for bedtime of course!” Amani says as she attempts to roll her eyes and rolls her entire head instead. Oh, that child will be a terror in her teens, Nicky can picture it now. Blanching to himself, Nicky quickly buries that thought. He doubts that he’ll still be around this family by the time Amani and Basim reach their teens, even if he’s starting to wish he would be. 

“Ah, of course,” Joe nods solemnly. “And what did we decide?”

Joe laughs as he is promptly tugged out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom by two enthusiastic children wishing to show him rather than tell. Nicky smiles after them, wishing Joe luck with putting those cuccioli to bed before he turns to finish prepping for tomorrow and starts cleaning the kitchen. 

Unsurprisingly, he gets lost in the familiar routine, humming to himself and not realizing he’s being watched until he turns and startles at Joe leaning against the doorway, studying Nicky with an unreadable expression. “Why haven’t you run screaming in the other direction yet?” Joe asks abruptly, making Nicky blink. 

Nicky rolls the question around in his head as he finishes scooping the cooling sauce into some tupperware. “Do you want me to?” he finally asks, glancing up when Nicky hears Joe walk fully into the kitchen. It’s only then that he realizes that Joe has swapped his charming work outfit for some worn out sweatpants and a stretched out t-shirt. And here Nicky thought he couldn’t look more huggable. 

“Of course not,” Joe says quietly, watching Nicky’s hands with rapt attention. “But I’ve cried on you, trapped you on my couch as I fell asleep on you, and spiraled into an anxiety attack, forcing you to calm me down. I just feel like I’ve thrown a lot at you, certainly more than you signed up for, and I want to give you an out.” 

Nicky seals the tupperware before turning to Joe and leaning against the counter, crossing his arms. “I meant what I said last night Joe,” he says firmly. Softening as he takes in Joe’s furrowed brow, shoulders raised defensively, Nicky sighs and takes a step forward. “I’m ready and willing to help you carry this load,” he murmurs, brushing a thumb along his cheek in a needy attempt to witness Joe melt as he did last night. As Joe closes his eyes Nicky allows himself an indulgence, admiring his expressive face. “You don’t need to carry this weight on your own.” Joe sags and in a blink Nicky finds himself with an armful of the softest man he’s met. Guiding them back to the couch in a mirror of last night, Nicky sits down before coaxing Joe to rest his head on his lap. Stroking a hand through Joe’s curls, Nicky smiles down at him. 

“I think I need to start paying you for emotional support as well,” Joe quips weakly, gazing up at him with what Nicky would describe as adoration if he didn't know better. 

“You wouldn’t have to pay me at all and I would still be here,” Nicky says in a burst of honesty. 

Joe’s eyes widen and he sits up, studying Nicky with an intensity that makes him shift self-consciously. “You mean that?” Joe croaks after a tense moment. 

Nicky stares at where their fingers have somehow twined together as they spoke. “Joe, I would babysit your children for free if you’d let me, but I know you won’t. Regardless I would very much like to be your friend if you’re interested. No charge necessary,” Nicky says with a quirk of his lips as he looks back up. 

Joe swallows spasmodically, those liquid brown eyes staring at him with an emotion Nicky doesn't care to name. “I would like that,” Joe finally rasps before he’s blinding Nicky with that beaming smile, his eyes squinting up adorably. 

Nicky finds himself returning the grin, feeling ready and willing to stay the rest of the night again when his alarm goes off. Groaning, Nicky reluctantly pulls away. “I gotta go to my shift,” he says, face twisted with regret, an emotion he sees mirrored in Joe. 

“I’m sorry if I overworked you,” Joe says, fiddling with a necklace he's pulled out from under his shirt. _Ah, so that's what happened to his ring,_ Nicky thinks with a pang in his chest at the reminder of this family’s loss. “You don’t have to work when you have bar shifts as well,” he adds, face pinched with worry. 

Nicky’s heart squeezes with a surge of affection for this caring man before he stands up. “Don’t worry, I’m an expert napper and as I discovered last night, your couch is quite comfortable,” he says with a wink, standing up and stretching. “I napped once I dropped the kids off and I can do the same tomorrow, no worries,” he adds with a shrug, watching with relief as Joe relaxes and nods. 

“Have a good shift then,” Joe says. “Earn lots of tips!”

Laughing, Nicky shoots Joe a sultry look. “Oh, I plan to.” And, leaving Joe gaping in his wake and feeling lighter than he has in quite some time, Nicky bids Joe goodnight and strolls out of the cozy apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Joe is triggered by Nicky suggesting he drive the kids somewhere and has an anxiety attack that Nicky is able to help talk him down from. Later, Nicky shares his own religion-based trauma. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I know Basim and Amani weren't in this chapter too much but I'll make up for it next time. I can't promise that I'll get the third chapter out as quickly as this one though so thank you in advance for your patience <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicky is becoming more and more entangled in the lives of the al-Kaysanis. No one is complaining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings for minor character injury and an anxiety attack both of which, as always, ends in lotsa cuddles. 
> 
> Thank you in advance for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Over the following weeks, they settle into a routine. Every day Nicky cooks breakfast and dinner, not just for the children but for Joe as well, despite Joe’s weak protests. Apparently, Joe isn’t allowed in his own kitchen anymore after Nicky witnessed what passed for a meal when Joe is cooking for himself. “You take better care of your children and cat than yourself,” Nicky tsked, shooing Joe out of the kitchen and throwing away his ramen with disgust.

“It’s a very reasonable meal!” Joe protested. 

“For poor uni students, which you are not,” Nicky retorted with that patented curve of the lips that makes Joe’s heart flutter. 

His heart was equally tormented by Nicky’s response to the note on the babysitting list that states they keep halal. Over the first two weeks, halal recipe books began appearing and became residents in Joe’s kitchen. For a man known for his words, it’s left Joe speechless.

Not to mention, now that they’re used to him, Amani and Basim insist that Nicky join Joe for bedtime stories. The first night Basim tugged Nicky towards their room with a shy smile Joe was nearly brought to tears. And if he sketched the image of Nicky reading on the ground with the twins clinging on to each arm later that night, then no one needs to know. 

Once the kids are put to bed, Nicky tends to linger if he has the night off. The first night Nicky loitered by the door and the two men stared at each other for a long beat before laughing awkwardly. Smiling, Joe tilted his head in an unspoken invitation and they headed to the couch as one. After an emotionally charged start to their relationship, it was almost odd just sitting and getting to know each other like regular friends would. Small talk quickly morphed into debates over the best TV show, which of course devolved into binge watching marathons like they were irresponsible uni students all over again. Other nights were dedicated to literature, both men tearing apart Joe’s bookshelves to quote their favorite passages and debate themes in novels, poems, plays. 

It’s the most fun Joe has had in...ages. He knows that he’s past the point of no return however when he walks by a liquor store before turning around to buy Nicky the beer he offhandedly mentioned was his favorite. 

That night, Nicky’s eyebrows furrow with confusion when Joe brings over a can. “I thought you didn't drink,” he inquires. 

Joe shrugs awkwardly before handing Nicky the beer and settling down on the worn couch beside him. “I don’t but you do.”

Nicky studies the can for a long moment before turning fully towards Joe. “I don’t need to drink to have a good time with you Joe.” 

“I know that Nico,” Joe says with a fond roll of his eyes. “Otherwise you are an actor worthy of Broadway.” That’s another thing. Calling him Nico. The first time Joe let the nickname slip Nicky blushed an adorable red and Joe couldn’t turn back after that. 

Quirking his lips (and yes Joe’s daily challenge to himself is making Nicky break out into a full smile or, better yet, laughter) Nicky raises his can for a toast and cracks it open, sliding down the couch with a satisfied sigh. “So what are we discussing or watching tonight?” he asks, eyes slipping closed. 

Joe’s fingers itch for a piece of charcoal so he can sketch Nicky’s serene expression but resigns himself to memorizing every detail so he can draw it when he’s alone once again. Nicky cracks an eye open and Joe knows he’s been caught out when the other man’s lips curl into a smirk that makes his heart skip. Before Joe can stop himself, the words tumble from his mouth anyway.“Can I draw you?” Joe blurts out, wincing as he speaks.

Nicky’s eyes widen before that delightful shade of red peppers his cheeks once again. “I don’t think there’s much to look at,” Nicky mumbles, earning a dismissive snort from Joe before he’s launching over the couch to the bins that hold the house’s art supplies. (“Because kitchen tables are meant for _eating_ not storage,” Nicky explained with fond exasperation his first full week.)

Crouching in front of the bin labeled “Baba” (“because your art supplies are far more expensive than the ones your kids need Joe,” Nicky remarked with a huff of laughter and a shake of his head) Joe digs for some charcoal and one of his sketchbooks. Settling back on the couch, Joe notes with disappointment that Nicky is sitting up rigidly, watching Joe with wary eyes. “I won’t draw you if it makes you uncomfortable Nicky, but I would like you to see how I see you,” Joe murmurs. “It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done for us.” 

Nicky plays with the tab of his can until it snaps off, staring down at it with a frown. “I would feel...awkward just sitting here and having you draw me,” he shrugs. 

“Then talk to me. Anything that comes to mind,” Joe encourages as he settles beside Nicky and shifts himself so he gets a better angle. 

Nicky takes a long sip (and Joe is certainly glad he impulsively brought this suggestion up on the same night he thought to buy beer) before releasing an explosive sigh. A long silence follows before he finally speaks. “I always liked to write. Of course, it was never encouraged in my household but in recent years I’ve started again. And I have this idea–” Nicky sits straighter, but in enthusiasm and not discomfort this time as he turns to Joe with bright eyes. “An idea about immortal warriors that appear all throughout history. They can be killed but they cannot die–they keep reviving! Two of them become immortal together while they fight on opposite sides of a war but they reconcile their differences, their hatred of each other, and fall in love. And they're guided and mentored by two women who have been lovers for millennia.”

Joe still hasn’t even put his pencil to paper yet, so enthralled by the story Nicky begins weaving, hands gesturing with the most passion and enthusiasm he’s ever seen in the ordinarily reserved man. 

Shaking himself out of his trance, desperate to capture the spark of creation in Nicky’s eyes, the excited smile dancing across his lips, Joe draws with a fervor he hasn’t experienced in years. But soon he finds himself so swept away by the vivid imagery Nicky paints with his story that his drawing begins to morph. As Nicky winds down, voice tinging with frustration as he expresses the writing block he’s running into, Joe is still swept up in the latest scene Nicky had been describing, sketching as fast as he can before the images leave him. “Am I boring you Yusuf?” Nicky asks lightly. Joe’s head shoots up, not expecting to hear that name cross his lips. But behind the smile dancing on his lips Joe can see the uncertainty lying behind Nicky’s eyes.

“Of course not Nico! No, Iー” he pauses, running his hand through his hair sheepishly. “You paint with your words and I couldn’t help myself,” he says with an awkward shrug before he turns his sketchbook around to show Nicky. Nicky leans forward, fingers hovering over the pages Joe had been working on as he studies the images, one centered on an ancient battlefield, two men with faces twisted in hatred, the other with the same men entangled in an embrace of lovers. 

“This is...this is my book,” he whispers, something like wonder in his tone.

“Like I said, you paint with your words,” Joe says with an uncertain smile. “I hope you don’t mind; I couldn’t help myself. Your words simply guided my hand.” 

Nicky shakes his head frantically. “No this is it! This is what I’ve been missing!” he exclaims, snatching up the sketchbook to cradle it to his chest and rolling onto his knees so they’re a breath apart. “I thought I needed to write some serious work of fiction but no! I could write a _graphic novel!_ And you could be my artist!” _I want to study you long enough to capture the color of your eyes,_ Joe thinks to himself as he stares at Nicky dumbly, fluctuating between a desperate urge to capture the light in Nicky’s eyes on the page and an equally strong wish to taste the passion off his lips. 

Nicky’s smile starts to dim and Joe can see him beginning to retreat back into his shell the longer Joe sits there frozen. But before he can start drawing away fully, Joe grasps one of Nicky’s wrists. “I...there are so many better artists than me Nico; I’m not even a _professional,”_ Joe protests weakly. 

Relaxing now that he understands it’s not a rejection, Nicky releases a dismissive sound. “Plenty of professionals could spend hours trying to capture my vision and wouldn’t come close to what you were able to manage in 45 minutes. I don’t want any old professional, I want _you.”_

Joe gulps, heart fluttering as Nicky pins him with that impassioned gaze. Nodding slowly Joe releases a shuddering breath. “I wouldn’t be able to work on it during the school year too much but...yes, Nicky. I would be honored.” 

And there it is: a full smile that spreads across Nicky’s face. Fuck, Joe would do practically anything to earn the privilege to witness such a sight every day. 

*******

“BABA IT’S SNOWING!!!” Joe releases a surprised snort before losing all of his breath as two forces of nature jump on him. Lifting his head and blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Joe looks out the window and grins sleepily when he sees the blizzard raging outside. 

Checking his phone and seeing that both his and the twins’ schools are closed, Joe turns off his alarms and grins up at his loves. “You know what that means?” he asks, opening up his sheets. Joe sighs as his two favorite people in the world snuggle up beside him. “Snow day cuddles,” he mumbles before slipping back to sleep. 

Joe is roused again sometime later by the sounds of giggles. Yawning, Joe stumbles out of bed in search of his mischief makers before stopping, utter horror washing over him as he spots Amani and Basim giving Nicky a makeover. “Oh my god I completely forgot to cancel you,” Joe moans, rushing over to Nicky as the man grins up at him. 

“I noticed,” he says dryly. 

“I’m so sorry you traveled in this weather,” Joe says, feeling hot and cold all over as his chest constricts. Oh god Nicky drove in this blizzard. What if he had crashed? What ifー

Joe’s breath stutters as Nicky folds him in an embrace. “I’m here. I’m safe,” Nicky soothes quietly, running his fingers through Joe’s hair. It’s like he’s developed a Pavlovian response to those fingers in his hair, to that cedar scent that’s becoming so familiar, immediately relaxing against Nicky’s chest. 

“Don’t hog Baba,” Amani scolds, coming up to cling onto Joe’s right leg while Basim mirrors her on Joe’s left. 

“I would never dream of hogging your baba,” Nicky says solemnly, pulling back to study Joe’s face before nodding with satisfaction at what he sees. 

As the panic recedes, Joe fully takes in Nicky’s appearance and bursts out in laughter. “Nicky you look absolutely lovely,” Joe grins, earning an exasperated look. It seems the kids decided that Nicky would be their canvas this morning, using finger paint to decorate his face before digging up the various ties for Amani’s hair lying around to put Nicky’s in several small tails. His clothes fell victim to the twins’ exuberance as well, but Nicky has enough sense not to wear anything nice when he comes here. He always brings a change when he’s going to a shift later anyway. 

“You’re one to talk, Mr. Bedhead,” Nicky teases, ruffling Joe’s hair.

Joe feels himself flush as he grins stupidly at the other man before clearing his throat. “Well obviously I don’t need a sitter but I would be a lot more comfortable if you stayed here until the blizzard calms,” Joe says, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. When Nicky shoots him a reassuring smile, Joe relaxes. “Feel free to use our shower,” Joe says with a twitch of his lips as he soaks up Nicky’s ridiculous appearance again. “I’ll work on breakfast, though I’m afraid the kitchen will find a way to kick me out itself without you there to supervise,” he says playfully, earning a small grin. 

Joe realizes his grave mistake while he’s mid flip on a chocolate chip pancake. As Nicky emerges from the shower, towel snug around his waist, he shoots Joe a sheepish look. “The bar’s closed tonight so I don’t have a change of clothes. Don’t suppose I can borrow some of yours?” 

Joe stares dumbly at the other man whose skin is gleaming like a modern Adonis before he shakes his head to clear it. “Y-yeah of course,” he stutters, fumbling to turn the stove off before leading Nicky into his room to pull out his clothes. Determinately ignoring the glaring fact that he has a half naked man in his bedroom, Joe tugs out some briefs, sweats, t-shirt and sweatshirt. “Hopefully this will work?” He asks. “Otherwise feel free to dig through my drawers for something else, I have no secrets hidden in them.” Not since it’s failed to keep snooping six year olds from finding old sketchbooks. 

Once Nicky is dressed Joe processes his second mistake. _This is worse than the half nakedness,_ Joe thinks hysterically as he’s mid pour of some maple syrup. Nicky has shuffled out of Joe’s room, tugging Joe’s sweatshirt on and ducking under the hood with a happy hum. Joe’s heart lurches and tumbles like a leaf in the wind at the sight. All he wants to do is snuggle up to this man and spend an entire day in his embrace while his children curl beside them. 

Heart aching with longing, Joe blinks when Nicky remarks dryly, “I see you like your syrup.” Looking down, Joe blushes with the realization that he has drowned Amani’s pancakes in his distraction. Fortunately, she’s busy attempting to set the table (because apparently that’s a thing they do now) with a concentration she hardly exhibits outside of drawing. Mumbling to himself, Joe discreetly throws the pancakes away before turning back to the stove with a resigned sigh. 

“Still waking up, hm?” Nicky teases lightly, coming up beside Joe. Hyperaware of the other man’s presence and how strongly Joe wishes to lean into him, Joe nods vaguely as he pours some more batter on the griddle. A warm hand settles on Joe’s shoulder and he finds it’s far too easy for him to relax into the touch. “Need me to take over?” Nicky murmurs into Joe’s ear, making him shiver. 

“N-no I think I got it,” Joe responds weakly, pouring what’s remaining of his strained concentration into flipping the pancakes without splattering them. 

“Babaaa I’m hungryyy,” Amani whines. 

“Patience patatina," Nicky croons. “How about I make your special drink while you wait, hmm?” 

As Basim and Amani respond with enthusiasm, Joe furrows his brow. “Special drink?” He repeats, turning to Nicky for clarification. 

Nicky smiles sheepishly as he ducks down to pull out a blender Joe doesn’t remember owning. “They refuse to eat their fruit so I’ve started to make smoothies with the fruit and call them ‘special adult drinks.’” 

Joe stares at Nicky with awe before placing his hands on either side of his face. “You are an utter genius,” Joe declares. He grins stupidly at Nicky as the other man blushes and curls his lips into a shy smile. Stomach plummeting as Joe has the sudden and overwhelming urge to kiss that smile off his lips, Joe drops his hands and steps back, clearing his throat. “Alright little monsters, Nicky will make your special drinks if you sit down like the civilized monsters I know you to be,” Joe announces, propping his hands on his hips with mock seriousness. 

As Basim and Amani clamber up into their seats, Joe pulls Basim’s plate of pancakes out from where they were warming in the oven, before flipping Amani’s onto her plate. Pouring a normal amount of syrup on the plates this time, Joe places them onto the table with a flourish. “I got a snowman!” Basim exclaims, picking the pancake up with his hands and biting its head off. Wincing at the future complaining he’ll have to endure when his son decides he doesn’t like syrupy hands, Joe turns back to the griddle to make some pancakes for him and Nicky. 

“I got a smiley face,” Amani hums happily. 

“Would you like chocolate chips on your pancakes Nicky?” Joe asks. 

“If I will be getting a smile or snowman out of it I certainly would,” he responds as he blends a mixture of fruit together. And seriously, since when did they have a blender?? Grinning to himself as he’s struck with inspiration, Joe gets started on his creation. 

When he’s done flipping the last pancake on each of their plates, Joe places Nicky’s proudly in front of him. Looking down, Nicky releases a huff of laughter, to Joe’s utter delight. “Mickey Mouse?” he asks, arching a brow toward Joe. 

“For our Nicky Mouse,” Joe says cheekily, sitting beside the other man. 

“Nicky Mouse!” The kids giggle, as Nicky shoots him a mock glare. 

“I am no mouse,” he declares, tilting his nose up. Gazing at him, Joe can’t help but agree. He’s far too regal to be a mouse, with that proud nose and sharp gaze. More like an eagle or a lion. 

“No,” Joe murmurs with a soft smile. “You’re certainly no mouse.”

Of course Nicky could have called ahead to see if Joe needed him today, but he very deliberately chose not to. He couldn’t help but be tempted by the possibility of spending the day with him and the kids, even if it was utterly idiotic driving in this storm. But now, warm, _in Joe’s clothes_ and surrounded by laughter, the nerve-wracking drive over was worth it. 

As the kids work to wash the excess syrup off their hands and faces, Joe and Nicky clean up breakfast. It’s so achingly domestic Nicky fears his heart won’t be able to take it. “Thank you for staying, I’m sure you have better things to be doing,” Joe murmurs as he hands Nicky a dish to dry. 

Nicky just scoffs, shaking his head. “There are few places I would rather be Joe.” 

Turning back to collect the next dish, Nicky falters at the look Joe pins him with. It’s one Nicky finds himself privy to more and more often and one he is very carefully not naming. “I’ll pay you for your time of course,” Joe mutters, finally breaking eye contact to scrub a tad harder than necessary on a dish. 

“You certainly will not, Joe,” Nicky snaps, sighing when Joe looks up at him with those wide brown eyes. “I told you all those weeks ago. I would spend time with them even if you don’t pay me. Having an entire day I can spend with you and the twins...it’s a treat for me.” Nicky finishes his speech with his gaze fixed to the floor, twining the towel around his hands and feeling far too vulnerable. 

“Speaking of a treat...how long have I owned a blender?” 

Snorting at the question and internally grateful for the topic change, Nicky shoots Joe a fond look. “Far too long for you to only notice it now.”

“It’s not my fault I’m not allowed in my kitchen,” Joe says playfully, handing Nicky the blender to dry. 

“You’ll have your kitchen privileges returned when you can prove to me you’ll make more for yourself than ramen and rice,” Nicky lectures. 

“Hmm...I’m afraid I may need to be a victim to your wonderful cooking a bit longer then,” Joe says with a solemn nod.

Huffing out a burst of laughter (and he never remembers laughing so much until he met this family) Nicky sighs dramatically. “I suppose I can continue my noble mission to get you eating real food then.” 

The rest of the day is dedicated to games and cuddles. As the snow begins to die down however, the begging begins. “Pleeeeeaaaasssse,” the twins whine, gazing up at them with matching puppy eyes. 

Joe and Nicky exchange a look before sighing. Nicky certainly has a stronger resistance against those doe eyes but even he has a limit. “Of course we’ll play outside.” 

Bundling up as he faces the prospect of spending an indefinite period of time out in his least favorite weather, Nicky steals himself for a miserable few hours. 

He should have remembered the company he was keeping. 

“ATTACK!!” Nicky shouts, before he and the twins begin pelting a shrieking Joe with snowballs. Chasing him through the park, Basim and Amani let out delighted giggles, Nicky’s new favorite sound. 

“You have turned my own children against me, how could you Nicky!” Joe yelps as he futilely attempts to dodge the oncoming projectiles. 

“This is what happens when you poke the bear Yusuf,” Nicky calls out playfully, preening at the charmed smile that spreads across Joe’s face when he uses his birth name. 

“I was simply passing you a snowball Nicolò, how was I to know you had such terrible reflexes?” Joe pouts, ducking with a yelp as Nicky throws several snowballs at him in succession. As he attempts to recover his balance Joe is attacked by two new projectiles in the form of his children. Bellowing dramatically, Joe allows himself to fall backwards, cradling both kids to his chest as he does. “I HAVE BEEN DEFEATED,” he announces. “So you know what that means?” He asks, lifting his head with a twinkle in his eye. Sprawling out his arms and legs, Joe starts brushing them back and forth. “Snow angels!” 

Nicky scrambles for his phone with numb fingers to take a video and some photos as all three Al-Kaysanis sprawl across the snow to make snow angels. He should probably be embarrassed that the majority of his photos feature moments with this family, but he can’t bring himself to care. When he has a grueling shift or a rough day, all he needs to do is open his phone to feel a hundred pounds lighter. And Nicky knows it’s the same for Joe, which is the other reason he keeps the photos. 

These may end up beating the one with Joe covered in paint after a particularly inspired painting session and the one when the kids decided to play dress up with Joe’s clothes though. 

None of the photos Nicky has include him in them, but that’s okay. He’s content being in the periphery, being a blip on the map of this family’s life, even if he dreams of being more. If this is all he gets, he can learn to live with that. 

“Nicky Mouse you need to be an angel too!” Amani orders. Blinking down at her, Nicky feels a smile spread across his face. 

Turning to Joe he says sweetly, “You owe me so much hot chocolate.” And as Joe guffaws, Nicky falls back into the snow to join the angels beside him. 

*******

Joe’s eye twitches as his phone buzzes again from his bag while he leads a discussion on Angelou. It’s gotta be his group chat with Nile and Booker. The history teacher has the first block on Fridays free, the bastard, and he loves blowing up the chat to mess with Joe. He’s about to respond to a student’s comment when Booker enters the classroom with one of their in-house subs. Turning to admonish him for distracting Joe and interrupting his class, Joe’s words die in his throat at Booker’s face. “Sorry folks, I gotta steal Mr. al-Kaysani but Ms. Goodman has got you covered,” Booker says with a flash of a fake smile. 

Ears ringing, Joe stumbles to his feet and heads out of the classroom in a daze, terror clawing at his throat as the implications of Booker’s interruption and expression runs through his head. “Keep breathing Joe, it’s nothing serious,” Booker says in his ear, large hand clasped on his shoulder as he steers Joe through the hall until they slip into an empty classroom. At this point Joe is in full hyperventilation mode, nausea roiling in his stomach as his feet give up on him. “Hey, hey they’re alright Joe, they’re alright!” Booker insists, crouching down so he’s eye level with Joe, clutching his hands. “Breathe with me, okay? Follow my breath.” As Booker slows down his breathing in a practice they’ve done together countless times before, Joe stares sightlessly at him, willing his lungs to follow the script. 

Gripping Booker’s hands with a strength he’ll feel guilty about later, Joe desperately claws back from the edge, clinging onto Booker’s reassurance that they’re alright. “There you are, big guy, there you are,” Booker says with a smile, squeezing Joe’s hands. When Joe blinks up at him and straightens, Booker nods, lips flattening to a grim line. “They’re both safe, but Basim broke his arm slipping on ice. Nicky is with both of them at the hospital now.” 

The rest of Booker’s words are drowned out by the return of Joe’s panic at the word “hospital.” He hasn’t been to one since Monique, though when he moved, unable to inhabit a home without her in it anymore, Joe chose an apartment less than a five minute’s walk from the hospital for a scenario just like today. As Joe spirals, he distantly notes that he’s ended up curled in Booker’s arms, a wet patch forming on his friend’s shoulder as he continues his stream of reassurance in Joe’s ear. 

Finally, gripping Booker’s arms with clawed hands, Joe tunes him back in. “I’m gonna be there with you every step, alright? But your kids are asking for you and I know you can be strong for them.” 

Joe squeezes his eyes shut at those words, tightening his grip on Booker before forcing himself to take three deep breaths. “Right. Thank you Booker,” he rasps before standing on unsteady legs.

In no state to drive, Joe stares numbly out the window as Booker breaks several speeding limits in order to get them to the hospital in record time. His friend guides him through the hospital, checking his phone for directions Nicky must have given him. Joe lets himself be led, mentally building up the fortifications he needs to be strong for his kids. When they finally turn into the room, it’s to find Amani clinging to Basim as Nicky murmurs quietly to them both. The doctor is gently placing a bright yellow cast on Basim while the boy sniffs tearfully from where he’s tucked against Nicky. 

“Oh my brave boy,” Joe says, voice cracking. 

“Baba?!” Basim exclaims, jolting up before whimpering as he jerks his arm. As Basim renews his crying, Joe releases a broken sound and hurries over to his son. “Come here Basi, come here my brave boy,” Joe croons, squeezing onto the already crowded bed so that Basim can burrow against his chest. “Look at how brave you are,” Joe says, kissing his son’s forehead and brushing away a stray curl before removing his hat to place it on the boy’s head. Turning to where Amani is sniffling, Joe opens up his arm so she can curl against him and Basim without jostling her brother. “And my brave girl being so strong for her brother, hm?” he adds, stroking through Amani’s hair and kissing her cheek. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner my loves,” Joe says, voice breaking as he buries his face into the mess of their curls. 

“It’s okay Baba, we had Nicky,” Basim whispers into his chest after another tearful moment. Taking a shaky breath, Joe turns to the other man who has since slipped off the bed and is staring at his clasped hands. 

“I’m so sorry Joe, Iー” 

“You brought them here safe and called Booker. Thank you,” Joe says stiffly with a nod, knowing he’ll break down if they go down that path further. 

As Nicky turns to seemingly go, Joe doesn’t have the words to stop him. “Nicky was teaching us Italian while we waited, Baba,” Basim whispers while Amani nods against his chest, oddly quiet. 

“Oh?” he prompts, nodding to the doctor as she finishes the cast. Booker takes Nicky’s vacant spot and grins as Amani cuddles his side. “Hi Uncle Booker,” Amani whispers. 

“Did I hear you’re learning Italian before you’re learning French?” the Frenchman asks with a dramatic gasp. 

“Baba says the only French words you use are naughty words so we can’t use them,” Amani informs him, earning a watery giggle from Basim. 

“But Nicky taught us good words, right Nicky?” Basim says with a slightly tearful smile. 

Nicky looks caught as he stands in the doorway, shifting his gaze between the kids and Joe. “Sì...yes, and you two are very good pupils,” he says with a soft smile.

“And what good words did Nicky teach you?” Joe asks, trying not to stare too hard at the tiny cast around his boy’s arm. Basim scrunches up his face before he says, _“Ti vogo ben.”_

_”Ti voglio bene,”_ Nicky gently corrects with a proud smile. 

Heart fluttering, Joe fakes ignorance. “And what does that mean?” he asks. 

“I love you,” Amani whispers, leaving Booker to curl into her brother again. Joe’s heart aches as he watches Amani. She’s never this quiet, this meek; seeing Basim injured must have shaken her more than it seemed to have shaken Basim himself, strangely enough.

“What a wonderful phrase to learn,” Joe whispers, staring at Nicky with bright eyes as the other man looks down, clearly guilt-ridden. 

“We taught Nicky some Arabic too,” Amani says, linking her fingers with Basim’s free hand. 

At this Nicky’s head lifts up, cheeks reddening. “Oh? And what did we teach Nicky?” Joe finds himself asking, a feeling not unlike anticipation bubbling in his stomach. 

Both twins turn expectant gazes to Nicky, who blushes further. Clearing his throat he flicks his gaze up to Joe and stutters out, “ _Ana bahebak.”_ Joe’s breath catches in his throat as he stares at the other man, mouth gaping. 

Nicky ducks his head. “I apologize if I butchered such a beautiful language,” he murmurs. 

Shaking his head Joe clears his throat, ignoring Booker’s curious gaze burning into the side of his head. “No no that was good, especially for a beginner,” Joe says with a weak smile. 

“Maybe you can teach us Italian and we can teach you Arabic and Uncle Booker can teach us the non-naughty words in French,” Basim proposes hopefully. 

Curling his arms around his children, heart swelling with love, Joe presses a kiss to both of their cheeks while gazing up at Nicky. “Sounds like a lovely idea.” 

Nicky’s tense the entire walk back to the apartment. Apparently Booker (is that really his name?) drove Joe here and, after making Basim and Amani giggle in a way that demonstrates a familiarity Nicky can dream of having with them, he drove back to school. Fortunately, he already informed Joe’s boss, Copley, about the situation so Joe has the rest of the day off. As they walk in silence, Amani clings onto Nicky’s hand, far too quiet for such an exuberant girl, while Joe cradles Basim in his arms. Nicky keeps flashing Joe an uncertain look, waiting to be dismissed, but Joe made it clear that he wanted Nicky to walk home with them. Maybe so he can be fired and kicked out in a private setting. 

Nicky fears he may be sick.

By the time they make it back, both kids are drooping, emotionally exhausted from the entire ordeal. Nicky forces himself to stay in the living room while Joe puts them both down. When over a half hour has passed though, Nicky creeps toward the room to check on them, just to stutter to a halt at what he sees. Joe is against the wall, rocking back and forth with his head buried in his knees as he works to muffle his sobs. Heart breaking for the poor man, Nicky trods over, checking that the twins are fast asleep. “Please, tell me how I can help,” he whispers brokenly. 

Joe’s head shoots up, eyes widening at the sight of Nicky. But the fury he expects doesn’t come. Instead, Joe’s expression crumples further as he reaches out a shaking arm. “Please–” he asks, voice cracking on the single word. Unsure what he’s being asked, Nicky sinks to the ground, startling when Joe practically throws himself at him, burying his face into Nicky’s shirt. Sucking in desperate lungfuls of air Joe gasps, “Thank you.” 

Nicky forces himself to pull away, self-hatred swirling in him like a storm. “The last thing you should be doing is thanking me Joe,” he says darkly, jaw clenching. “I let your son get hurt.”

After a tense moment, a tug on his shirt compels Nicky to turn, averting his gaze so he doesn’t have to look into those expressive eyes. “How did it happen?” Joe asks softly.

Nicky releases a shuddering breath, scrubbing his hands over his face. “We were walking to school and I was turned to Amani so I could listen to her story about her and her friend Jaida when Basim pulled from my grip because he saw a dog. He started running toward it and then–” Nicky chokes on his final words, eyes squeezing shut as the scene plays in slow motion: Basim slipping, Nicky not getting there fast enough, the sound of something cracking and then the ear-splitting sobs that followed. God, Nicky has never been so scared in his life. 

Instead of pulling away, Joe draws closer until his arms are wrapped around Nicky’s shaking frame. “They’re okay,” Joe whispers, for his own sake as well as Nicky’s. “Thanks to you.” Nicky simply bows his head. He should have done better. “I’ll talk to Basim later about the walking rules. He should’ve known better than to pull from your grasp like that.” 

Nicky’s eyes shoot open in panic. Forcing his voice to lower so he doesn’t wake the children Nicky pulls away and hisses, “It’s my fault, not Basim’s!” 

But Joe simply looks at him calmly. “It’s no one’s fault. It was a freak acc–” he cuts himself off with a shaky breath. “I don’t blame you Nicky, and I hope you won’t blame yourself.” 

Both men sit there in silence, curled up with each other as they stare at the children resting, exhausted after such a tumultuous morning. “I don’t think I’ll be able to let them out of my sight for awhile,” Nicky says faintly. 

Joe barks out a humourless laugh. “Join the club.”

When the kids wake up from their nap an hour later, the waterworks resume. Joe carries Basim while Nicky carries Amani into the living room so they could all curl up together and burrow under the quilt blanket, Cow wiggling between the sprawling limbs with a purr. “I’m very proud of you both. You were very brave today,” Joe says softly, pressing a kiss to each of their temples and brushing tears away with the pad of his thumb.

Amani curls closer to Joe. “It was scary Baba,” she sniffs. 

“Oh, of course it was habibti, but being brave doesn’t mean that you’re not afraid. It means that you keep going even though you _are_ scared,” Joe soothes, wrapping an arm around his daughter to squeeze her tightly. Nicky’s heart clenches as he witnesses how _good_ of a father Joe is. It’s not like Nicky doesn’t know that; he’s reminded of this fact every moment he interacts with Joe, whether he’s with his kids or not. But a moment like this...Joe is still coming down from the panic and distress of the day yet he’s such a solid, comforting presence for his children. Nicky's not sure if he can hold any more love for this man. 

His heart skips. Fuck. That’s what he’s feeling isn’t it? Love. 

Yet as he plays back the past few weeks, he can’t help but tentatively hope that his attraction is mutual, if not to the depth and intensity that Nicky experiences it. He thinks of Joe’s warm gaze on him, the lingering touches that pass between them. He thinks of the long nights they spend laughing and deep in discussion that invariably end with them curled up together. But it’s so complicated with Joe’s past and the unorthodox way they’ve entered their relationship, that it’s difficult to address the elephant in the room. No–Nicky won’t mention anything until Joe is ready.

“Nicky said that you’ll draw on my cast Baba?” Basim asks in that small voice of his, pulling Nicky from his musings. 

“Of course habibi, of course.” But when Joe attempts to stand both children hold on to him tighter. Squeezing his eyes shut for a long moment, Joe takes a shaky breath. “Perhaps we watch a movie first, my brave little monsters?” When both kids nod their heads, Nicky reaches for the controller. 

The rest of the afternoon is spent there, all five of them squished together on the cramped couch in a mess of sprawling limbs. Nicky wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world. While the children doze off in the middle of Paw Patrol: Mighty Pups, Nicky watches Joe out of the corner of his eye. The other man is slumped on the couch, looking far older than his years. “How are you holding up?” Nicky murmurs. 

Joe runs a hand down his face. “Five seconds from falling apart again,” he huffs out humourlessly. 

Nicky reaches out with the urge to brush a thumb across his cheek before changing trajectory and placing his hand on Joe’s shoulder instead. “I’m here,” he says simply, stupidly. 

Eyes like pools of warm chocolate turn to him. “I know.” 

Soon enough, Nicky finds himself dozing off too, only to awaken after an unknown time has passed to find Joe’s head on his shoulder, asleep, and two pairs of soulful eyes gazing up at him.

“Yes cuccioli?" Nicky prompts them softly. 

Amani fidgets for a long moment until Basim gives her an encouraging nudge. “If I promise to be quieter and Basim promises to be growner up and we promise to be good will you stay forever?” 

Nicky forces his breathing to stay calm as he works through conflicting emotions: elation that these two precious children want him in their lives indefinitely and horror at the implication of their words. Licking his lips, Nicky forces himself to speak. “What do you mean Amani? Why would I need you to be all those things?” 

Amani drops her gaze, hand clasping Basim’s. “That’s what our other babysitters wanted and they always left and that was okay ‘cause we didn’t like them when they said that but we like you and we don’t want you to leave Nicky Mouse,” Amani rushes out, burying her face into Nicky’s chest with a sniff. 

Rousing from some kind of preternatural parental instinct, Joe croons softly to Amani as she cries into Nicky’s shirt, scooping Basim into his arms as the boy does the same. When Joe looks to Nicky, searching for an explanation, he can only stare at him with helpless shock. “I–” Nicky swallows, wrapping his arms tightly around Amani. “I can’t promise I’ll always be your babysitter but I promise I’ll be here for as long as you and your baba want me to be,” Nicky croaks, forcing the fury surging through his veins down to be dealt with later. The kids don’t need to witness that, and if Nicky can help it, he doesn’t want Joe to see the rage in his eyes either. He works tirelessly and worries so often about being a good father for his children; learning that those he trusted to care for them treated Amani and Basim so poorly would shatter him. 

Joe stares at him after his pronouncement, emotions crossing his face too quickly to process as Basim and Amani clamber into Nicky’s lap, clumsily wrapping arms around him. _”Ana bahebak, cuccioli,”_ Nicky whispers into their hair. 

_“Ti vogo ben,_ Nicky Mouse,” Amani says, nuzzling Nicky’s neck. 

“No ‘Mani it’s _ti vono betty,"_ Basim gently corrects, turning to look at Amani from where his face is pressed against Nicky’s shoulder. 

Nicky’s mouth curves into a smile as he gazes down at two of the most important people in his world. He should be terrified at how quickly he has fallen utterly in love with these two, but it was inevitable, his attraction to Joe notwithstanding. God, he couldn’t let them go even if he wanted to. And now knowing that they’ve had their little hearts broken so often by past so-called babysitters, and after his genuine terror that Joe would fire him after Basim’s broken arm? He’s more determined than ever to stick around for as long as they will have him. And he can’t help praying that it will be for some time close to forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I made Nicky Greg Rucka and am replacing the truly terrible artist from the comics with Joe because I can. 
> 
> If you didn’t infer, the kids taught Nicky how to say “I love you” in Arabic. I tried to do some digging for the correct term because I got some conflicting answers so if this is wrong feel free to correct me! Also from my research, _Ti vogo bene_ is closer to how you would say "I love you" if you were talking to family. But again, if I'm wrong, please correct me!
> 
> Apparently _patatina_ means "little potato" and is a common Italian endearment for children and that's?? So sweet?? _Cucciolo_ is another and means puppy and again: PRECIOUS. 
> 
> Next chapter features meddling friends, permissions asked/given, love confessions, and (big shocker) lotsa cuddles.
> 
>  ***Updated note*** Indus has kindly informed me that Nicky's Arabic is wrong and says, "With arabic it depends on whom you're talking to- the ending changes with gender and plurality. So Nicky got it right and wrong but that's incredibly common with language learners." Given this feedback, I'm going to leave the Arabic as is to reflect his language development, similar to the kids mispronouncing the Italian, but I wanted to make a note to let you all know this. ShaolinQueen has also told me that the correct plural of "cucciolo" is "cuccioli." Thank you both!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Permission is given, words are spoken, and hugs abound. It’s confession time folks!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sighs* Listen. This was supposed to be the last chapter, honestly!! And then it somehow got to 10,000 words. Whoops? 
> 
> Shout out to Hewt for the baking fiasco idea, ShaolinQueen for correcting my Italian, and Indus for correcting my Arabic. I really appreciate it! 
> 
> (Also felt it important to note: I aged Booker down in this fic. Yes, his wife died, but they met in high school and married fresh out of college before she died a few years later. He and Joe are similar ages with Nile about three years younger.)
> 
> I am thrilled and honored by all of your enthusiasm for this fic. Thank you for your support! <3

“Can Nicky sleep over every day?” Joe turns to study Basim as he closes the door on Nicky’s retreating back. Inevitably, he stayed the night. After such an emotionally charged morning, they hardly left the couch and when it grew dark, Nicky turned to Joe with a conflicted expression. “I wasn’t exaggerating before when I mentioned I don’t know if I can let them out of my sight,” he admitted ruefully. Joe just released a tired laugh before inviting him to stay the night. In the end, both of them piled pillows and blankets into the kids’ room and slept there. It certainly wasn’t the most healthy parental habit but Joe couldn’t care less in that moment.

Turning back to the present and Basim’s question, Joe tilts his head, curious where this conversation could lead. “Would you like that?” 

Basim nods eagerly as he draws what can generously be described as Nicky, kicking his feet back and forth while he does. “We both would! Right ‘Mani?” 

Without looking up from where she is drawing on Basim’s cast, tongue sticking out with concentration, Amani nods. “I like Nicky a lot and Basim likes Nicky a lot and you like Nicky a lot and Nicky likes us a lot so Nicky should stay here forever,” she concludes in that simple way that only children can achieve. 

Joe blanches at her proclamation while his children continue to draw on their respective surfaces obliviously. “Babysitters don’t usually sleep over and stay in a home forever,” Joe says carefully. Though as he speaks Joe can’t help but play back Nicky’s words from the night before. His promises to stay as long as they would want him. And his eyes. How soft and warm and full of love they were as he spoke softly to Amani and Basim. If Joe wasn’t already aware of his growing feelings, that moment alone would have been like a brick to the face. As it was, Joe feared his heart would leap out of its chest. 

“Then you should date Nicky because people who date sleep over, that’s what Uncle Booker says.” _Remind me to kill your Uncle Booker later,_ Joe thinks to himself hysterically. 

“Do you know what dating is?” he croaks instead, biting back a whimper when Basim and Amani nod. 

“It’s what two people who love each other do but not like how we love you Baba but like how you love Nicky,” Basim informs him helpfully.

“You think I love Nicky?” Joe asks faintly.

“Of course! You draw him lots,” Amani says, still not perfecting that eye roll quite yet, alhamdulillah. 

Joe groans. How the fuck did they find his secret sketchbook _this_ time? “So you wouldn’t mind if I asked Nicky on a date? If there were more sleepovers?” Joe finds himself asking, this whole conversation utterly surreal. 

“Will Nicky still be able to babysit us? He says that being our babysitter and dating you would be unedible,” Basim says with a contemplative frown. 

Joe is speechless as his brain decides to stop working in the face of that statement and all its implications. “Let’s table this conversation, okay?” He suggests weakly. _Because if I think about this any further I may explode,_ he doesn’t add. 

Joe’s still reeling from his children's’ casual revelations when he hears the door open. “AUNTIE NILE!” The kids shriek, running towards the woman who’s just slipped into the apartment. 

“Okhti,” Joe says with a grin, sweeping Nile into a spinning hug while the kids try to cling on to her legs. 

“Hey big bro,” Nile says with a grin, her usual response ever since she learned what “okhti” meant. Without Monique, both titles have a lingering bittersweetness to them now, but they haven’t stopped exchanging them. 

“Look Auntie,” Basim says, tugging Nile’s leg and brandishing his arm containing artwork ranging vastly in skill. 

Gasping, Nile crouches down so she’s eye level with the twins. “How did you get that? From fighting a crocodile?” 

“Noooo,” Basim says with a giggle. Joe takes Nile's jacket with a soft smile as Nile invents increasingly absurd ways for Basim to have earned a broken arm. Swallowing past the bitter taste of terror still coating his tongue, Joe stows the apparel in the closet before turning back to where Nile is now carefully adding her own piece of art to Basim’s arm. 

Though her visit is unexpected, it’s not surprising, nor is it unwelcome. When he finally gained the emotional energy to open his phone to send Booker a thank you, Joe winced at all the missed calls and texts from Nicky, Booker, and Nile. After shooting off assurances to the group chat with Booker and Nile, Joe set his phone aside for the rest of the night, determined to be fully present for his family.

But something in the gleam of Nile’s eye whenever the kids mention Nicky as the day progresses warns Joe that this isn’t purely a visit to check on the twins. His suspicions are confirmed when the kids have been put to bed and Nile breaks into Nicky’s beer stash with a raised brow. Settling onto the couch so their legs are tangled together and they’re face to face, Nile cracks open the can. “So....” Taking a long sip, Nile levels Joe with a look that twists Joe’s stomach with apprehension. _“Nicky.”_

Joe stiffens, moving to fidget with his necklace unconsciously. “Yes?” 

Nile watches his hand with eyes that don’t miss anything before flicking to study Joe’s face. “Booker assigned me to this case because he knew you would distract him with soccer. So.” Nile hardens her stare. “Nicky.”

“There is no _Nicky,”_ Joe protests, shifting away from Nile, his heart racing like a hunted animal. “He’s my kids’ sitter and he’s my friend, end of story.”

“According to Booker, you two were looking at each other with heart eyes yesterday,” Nile says idly.

“According to Booker, Lyon has a chance at winning the League this year,” Joe mutters in response. 

“You know I don’t know enough soccer to understand the insult you’re trying to make,” Nile says fondly. When Joe continues to studiously avoid her eye contact Nile flicks his ear, raising an eyebrow when he scowls at her. They continue their standoff for a long moment until Nile reaches out to squeeze his hand, ducking to catch Joe’s eyes. “You deserve to be happy Joe. Monique would want that,” she says, voice only breaking for a moment on her sister’s name.

Joe releases a shaky breath, scrubbing his face and wishing not for the first time that he drank. “It feels like a betrayal, moving on. Like I didn’t love her, that I’m forgetting about her,” Joe chokes out, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes in a desperate and futile attempt to stem the flow of tears.

Placing her drink down, Nile shifts on the couch and draws Joe into her arms. They sit there in silence for a long moment, soaking in the familiar comfort of each other. “For months I wouldn’t let myself smile. Thought if I was happy that meant I was betraying her,” Nile eventually says before taking a shaky breath. “But it’s the opposite Joe.” Shifting so they’re face to face, Nile grips Joe’s shoulders tightly. After a beat, Joe forces himself to meet her fierce eyes. “You know she would kick both our asses if she thought we were wallowing in grief for her sake,” she says, earning a choked laugh from him. A watery smile spreads across Nile’s face as she brushes a stray curl out of his eyes. “When we are happy, when we are joyous, when we love, we carry those who have passed with us. We honor their memory by being happy and living in their stead.” 

Joe’s breath catches at the resolve in Nile’s voice, the faith. “When did you get to be so wise?” he croaks. 

Nile rolls her eyes with a crooked smile, punching him in the shoulder. “Wiseass.” 

Joe nudges her shoulder and they trade watery grins before Joe grows solemn. “But what about your happiness? You deserve to be happy and have someone too.”

Nile studies him for a long moment before bursting into laughter. “You really don’t know?” 

Joe furrows his brow. “Know what?” 

“Oh Booker owes me _so_ much money,” Nile cackles. When Joe continues to stare at her with confusion she rolls her eyes fondly before punching him in the shoulder again. “Booker and I have been dating for the past year, dummy.” 

Joe gapes at Nile incredulously. He had a sense that they were _something_ but he was sure he would know if it was serious. Nile just grins at him fondly. “Monique would be _roasting_ you right now.” 

Shaking his head and hugging Nile in (belated) congrats, Joe chuckles. “And she would make fun of you for falling for a white guy.”

“You’re one to talk,” Nile comments, arching her brow. 

Joe barks out a laugh. “Touché.” 

Grinning dopily at each other, sister and brother in all but blood wrap their limbs together, trading their favorite stories of Monique; when she and Nile snuck out to see a midnight showing of The Ring and slept in the same bed when they couldn’t sleep for a week after, when Joe and Monique locked themselves out of their apartment and they attempted to break in with armfuls of groceries, when the three of them played a game of scrabble that ended in the board being thrown at Joe for playing “xi” for 32 points... 

It’s late into the night and several tears later when Nile flicks Joe’s ear again from where she’s lying in his lap. “Tell me about him,” she orders gently. Joe gazes down at Nile, a reflection of her sister in so many ways yet entirely different all the same. She’s right; Monique would kick his ass if she knew he wasn’t letting himself move on, and she could with that MMA training, even as a ghost.

Taking a shaky breath, Joe closes his eyes before finally permitting himself to voice the feelings he’s been keeping safe inside his chest and hidden in the pages of his sketchbook. “Well, it turns out that kitchen tables are made for eating, not just art,” he starts with a fond smile.

*******

“You’ve been washing the same glass for 5 minutes,” Andy remarks in passing, making Nicky blink out of his trance.

“Huh?” he says dumbly. 

“Aaaandyyyy is our dear Nicky dreaming about someone?” Quỳnh asks with delight, smiling like a shark who smells blood in the water as she drifts closer to him. 

Nicky groans. “Can we not do this?”

“Oh no are certainly doing this,” Andy declares, plucking the glass from his grip and looking at Nicky with an expectant expression. 

Nicky releases a pitiful whine before pouring himself a shot for some liquid courage. “It’s Joe,” he sighs, taking the shot before draping himself dramatically over the counter. 

Andy quirks a brow and trades one of those unreadable glances with Quỳnh that only couples can manage. “The babysitter guy?” she clarifies, humming when Nicky gives a morose nod. 

“His heart is just so big and his smile could power an entire city and he wears the dumbest hats but makes them work and he's literally incapable of keeping a surface paint free and he loves his kids with such fervor it’s humbling and he’s the worst disciplinarian you’ve ever seen but it’s fine because his kids adore him and he’s been through hell yet he is still so optimistic and kind andー“ Nicky cuts himself off to release a helpless moan, thumping his head on the counter. 

Quỳnh releases a sympathetic sound. “Oh, our poor Nicolò’s in love, huh?” He can only nod pitifully. 

Both women pat him on the back, pour him another drink, and let Nicky babble about Joe until the bar opens, because they’re nice enablers like that. 

His shift is in full swing later that night when a vaguely familiar mop of blond hair settles in his periphery. “Got anything non-alcoholic?” Startling, Nicky turns to stare at Joe’s friend Booker slumped lazily against the counter. Plastering on his customer service smile, Nicky places a coaster by the other man’s elbow. “Now that’s not the same smile I recall you shooting Joe yesterday,” Booker drawls, making Nicky’s eyes narrow. When the other man had texted Nicky asking for the name of the bar he worked at (has Joe been talking about Nicky to his friends?) Booker stated his interest in paying Nicky’s kindness with the kids at the hospital forward via tips, despite Nicky’s demurrals. Now he’s regretting caving so easily. 

“Can I help you Booker?” Nicky asks civilly as he pours a beer for a woman down the bar.

Sighing, Booker runs his hands through his messy hair. “Listen Nicky, Joe’s my best friend. I witnessed that man go through hell and seen him come out the other side somehow kinder, which I thought was impossible.” Softening, Nicky drifts back towards Booker to listen as he keeps an eye on the rest of his customers. Fiddling with the coaster, Booker continues. “When Joe mentioned he got a new sitter I assumed it would be as short-lasting as all the others, but instead I started hearing your name mentioned nearly every day. Thought it was a harmless crush that would fade. Then I saw you together yesterday.” 

Nicky stiffens as he drops off the bill for a couple seated two down from the man. “Oh?” he asks warily. 

Booker leans forward, eyes piercing. “Even in the middle of his panic and terror, when Joe’s eyes met with yours I could literally see him relax. And I saw how you were with the kids, how they clearly adore you.” Booker pauses, studying Nicky like he’s a particularly difficult puzzle to solve. “He hasn’t dated since Monique, first because of grief and then in his desperation to give everything he can to his kids,” Booker murmurs before his expression hardens. “I need you to think this through, because if you pursue this and it doesn’t work out, I don’t want to see that family broken-hearted again.” 

With no one else needing his immediate attention, Nicky finds himself twisting his towel in his hands, gaze cast down. “I’m happy to be part of their lives in any way possible. If-” Nicky swallows. He's almost sure Joe does but he keeps that if. “If Joe feels the same, we will be doing it on his terms, and if-” he has to close his eyes, heart aching at just the prospect- “And if it doesn’t work out I would never abandon them.” Opening his eyes, Nicky stares at Booker with all the fierce protectiveness he possesses for that family. “And if I break that promise, you have my permission to make my life a living hell.” 

Booker studies him, eyes searching Nicky’s face before releasing a satisfied grunt and leaning back. “I wouldn’t worry; if you’ve ever had to endure him talk poetry, you know that man’s a hopeless romantic. Eventually he’ll tell you himself, but all I’m asking is that you give him time to come to you and think seriously about whether you want this.” 

“I am all the more richer for having them in my life, whether I am a babysitter or something more,” Nicky whispers, “And I will wait all my life if that’s what he needs.” Closing his eyes he rasps, "Before I met him and the kids, I was searching for my purpose, searching for a home. And I found it in them."

Snorting, Booker shakes his head. “God, you two romantics deserve each other.” Sitting straighter, he gestures lazily. “Now tell me what non-alcoholic drinks you got. And it better not just be gingerale or I’ll be making some complaints.” 

*******

“Oh my babies,” Patricia croons, crouching down to gather Basim and Amani in her arms before they even make it past the threshold. “And Yusuf,” she says warmly, standing up to cradle Joe’s face and searching his eyes before allowing her smile to grow larger. “Come in, come in, I hope the ride was not too bad,” she says with a careful look in Joe’s direction. 

He keeps his head down and focuses on lugging in their bags. Joe hates driving. He never used to until Monique’s crash but now whenever he slips behind the wheel he wonders if he will be next, if his children will become orphans rather than motherless. Wonders what it felt like for her, tries to imagine what the moments right before and following the crash were like. A hand on his shoulder steadies him and Joe takes a deep breath before smiling weakly at her. “We’re in a Moana phase so the song selection was limited,” is all he says. 

Squeezing Joe’s shoulder, Patricia gazes down at the children greeting Toby, her old mutt. “I don’t think I know this Moana,” she muses, causing Amani and Basim to look up with matching grins. 

“Can we watch it tonight Baba?” Amani asks hopefully. 

Mentally groaning at the prospect of having to watch it for the 10th time in a week, especially without Nicky's whispered commentary in his ear, Joe smiles helplessly at them. “Maybe tomorrow.”

It was a bit of an impulsive decision taking time off on Monday and visiting Patricia on Good Friday weekend. Wanting to spend as much time with her as possible, Joe decided to drive straight to Chicago after he got out of work on Thursday so it’s already past the kids' bedtimes. 

Of course, the excitement at visiting their grandmother and being in a new place means that it takes them a while to settle down, but eventually Joe sits across Patricia’s kitchen table with a tired sigh. Taking a delicate sip of her tea, Patricia studies Joe for a long moment. “As lovely as it is to see you Yusuf, I was surprised when I got your call,” she remarks casually, as though she’s commenting on the weather. 

Joe slumps, staring glumly at the tea Patricia slides his way. He should've known he wouldn't get anything past her after all these years. A silence falls between them, Patricia content to wait him out because she knows he’ll cave eventually. “Have you talked to Nile recently?” he eventually asks, cupping his tea with two hands and studying it. 

“We talk at least once a week. Why?” 

“She and I had a conversation a couple weeks ago. Didn’t know if it made it back to you.” Joe grits his teeth when Patricia stays silent again, waiting patiently for him to continue. Finally he can’t hold it in any longer. “I met someone.” Taking a shaky breath he rasps, “And I’ve come to ask your permission.” 

Flicking his gaze up, Joe swallows as Patricia studies him with an unreadable expression. “Permission?” 

Raking his hand through his hair Joe stutters, “I love Monique and I always will. I was ready and willing to spend the rest of my life with her. She’s the mother of my children.” Joe’s words dry up and he scrubs his face raggedly. Keeping his face covered Joe whispers, “I’m asking your permission to let myself love again.” 

“Oh Yusuf,” comes the sigh, before a chair scrapes back and Joe finds himself surrounded by warmth. “Just because I never remarried after James doesn’t mean I expect or wish the same fate for you. I made that choice, fulfilled enough with my children, my friends, my dogs, my job. You are far too full of love to keep even a drop of it locked inside.” Joe turns and burrows his face into his second mother’s neck, breathing in her scent of citrus and honey as cathartic tears begin to stream down his cheeks.

Tsking, Patricia guides Joe towards her couch that is somehow more worn and well loved than his own. “Monique would only wish for your happiness, and I know if your positions were reversed you would wish the same,” Patricia whispers in his curls, voice tight with emotion. Taking a shaky breath, Patricia strokes a hand through Joe’s hair. “Now tell me what lucky person has caught your eye.” 

Joe allows himself a small smile. “He might be giving you some competition in the cooking department,” he says, earning an affronted gasp and a flicked ear. _Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree_ Joe thinks ruefully, sitting straighter and rubbing his ear with a pout. Crossing her arms, Patricia releases a harrumph. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

*******

Nicky drags his feet into the bar, a cloud over his head as he braces himself to begin his shift. He pauses however when Nicky sees a host of familiar faces. There’s Andy and Quỳnh of course, though they don’t always work the same shift, but there’s also Booker beside a woman he and the two women seem to be chatting with. “Ah, speak of the devil,” Andy smirks as Nicky hops over the bar. “Nile, this is Nicky. He’s not always such a miserable bastard but your mutual friend is apparently out of town.” 

Fine, so he’s been a bit...morose...since Joe and the kids left for Chicago two days ago. He’s just gotten used to their company so it’s a bit jarring and disorienting not having them around. Nicky had to bite his tongue to keep himself from offering to accompany Joe when the other man mentioned he was traveling to visit his mother-in-law with the kids. As much as he may want to, Nicky knows it’s not his place. But he’s not _that_ miserable.

Nicky glowers at Andy before turning to the stranger with a strained smile. “Nice to meet you,” he murmurs. 

The woman scans him up and down before tilting her head. “Nile,” she says by way of introduction. 

Nicky’s eyes widen as the name finally registers. Nile, Monique’s sister, and effectively Joe’s sister in everything but blood. “I’ve heard many good things about you,” he nods, snagging a towel from Andy’s shoulder and dodging her errant smack in retaliation. 

Nile raises a brow, eyes glittering. “Same here.” 

Nicky’s stomach flutters with nerves, desperately longing to know what Joe has said about him. Instead, Nicky glances over to where Andy and Quỳnh are leaning against each other. “Have you been helped or have these two been slacking on their jobs?” Nicky asks with mock disapproval. 

“You see how our child treats us Andy?” Quỳnh inquires, looking up at her wife. 

Andy shakes her head, arm draped across Quỳnh’s shoulders. “No respect for his elders.” 

Nicky rolls his eyes before catching a hand from a patron down the bar and walking over to them. “So, you two are what? His lesbian moms?” Booker scoffs. 

“Is that so hard to believe?” Quỳnh says, a dangerous edge to her voice. Nicky’s heart warms as he glances back at her. Sure, both women give him a lot of shit and he gives as much as he gets, but the truth of the matter is he’s not quite sure where he would be without them. Well, he knows exactly where he would be and Nicky still has nightmares about waking up there, finding all these years to be a dream. 

“Please ignore Booker, he’s an asshole but he’s a lovable asshole,” Nile says, glaring at him while Nicky works on the customer’s order and passes it to them. 

Booker raises his hands defensively. “Didn’t mean anything by it. You two just looked a bit young to be raising him.” 

“They’re better parental figures than my father and mother could ever hope to be,” Nicky murmurs, crossing his arms and leaning a hip against a counter. “So? Drinks?” 

Nodding once they’ve given their orders, Nicky turns to fill them while the conversation starts back up. “So Joe’s visiting your mom?”

“Yeah, Joe usually brings the kids to see her during winter and summer break so I was a bit surprised that he is visiting in the middle of March and taking a day off to do so on top of it,” Nile muses, tapping a nail on her glass before taking a long sip. Nicky frowns. That is a bit strange, come to think of it. 

“So give us the lowdown on Joe. We’ve heard Nicky’s version of the man but he’s gotta be seeing through rose tinted glasses, right?” Andy scoffs. The next hour is dedicated to Nile and Booker proving in no uncertain terms that there was no exaggeration in Nicky’s description of Joe, leaving him feeling quite vindicated after all the teasing he’s endured over the past few weeks. But soon, it devolves into a venting session about how Joe is sometimes _too_ perfect.

“Not to mention, his idea of celebrating his birthday has been curling up with the kids on the couch and falling asleep at 8. Believe me, I love those little buggers but the man deserves to have a party, you know?” Booker rants, gesturing emphatically. 

“When is his birthday?” Nicky asks, glancing up from where he’s pouring a far too complex cocktail given the hour. 

“April 12th,” Nile responds with a frown. “I really wanna do something special for him this year.” 

“I’m on it,” Nicky says with a determined nod, menu and plans already forming in his mind. 

“I would leave it to him. His party for me and Andy’s 2oth Anniversary made the great Andy Scythia cry,” Quỳnh smirks. 

“I wasn’t crying. There was sun in my eyes from where I was looking up at the horse,” Andy claims stubbornly. 

Nicky’s lips curve up into a small smile. She totally cried. And if he has his way, Joe will be crying happy tears too.

*******

The weekend flew by in a whirlwind of deep dish pizza, museum visits, and far too many rewatches of Moana. In the evenings Joe and Patricia sat together and shared stories of Monique before Joe would begin tentatively talking about Nicky with Patricia’s gentle encouragement. She’s still skeptical about his cooking ability but seems to be enamored with everything else about him and the situation, particularly with how enamored _Joe_ is with him. 

“Before you head back, there was another matter I wanted to discuss,” Patricia starts over their usual evening cup of tea. 

“Hm?” Joe asks, sinking into his seat with a contented sigh as he breathes in the mint. 

“I’m thinking of moving out of Chicago.” 

Snapping his eyes open, Joe sits up with alarm. “Where are you going?” he asks urgently. “Why?” 

Before he can spiral into a full panic at the concept of his kids being separated from _two_ grandparents since his parents still live in the Netherlands, Patricia lays a palm over his trembling hand. “I thought I would join you and Nile in Indiana.” 

Joe immediately deflates, heart slowing as his panic recedes. “Oh,” he says dumbly, earning a fond smile. 

“Silly child, you can’t be rid of me that easily.” Taking a slow sip of her tea, Patricia sits back. “I needed to be alone in my grief,” she muses. “I was thankful when Nile stopped visiting me and began staying with you instead. She needed to be around life but I needed my time with death for a bit longer.” Sitting straighter, Patricia looks at Joe with the same piercing eyes as her daughters. “But I’m tired of it now. I can retire with the settlement money you insisted on splitting with me and I want to be near my family. With Nile and this boy she seems to be mooning over and my grandchildren who grow faster each time I see them and with _you_ my son,” Patricia says firmly. 

Swallowing past a lump in his throat Joe croaks, “Any chance you’re looking for a babysitting gig? I may need to fire my babysitter soon.” 

Releasing a burst of laughter so similar to Monique’s Joe could swear she’s in the room with them, Patricia grins at Joe, eyes sparkling with mirth. “I’ll take it.” 

*******

On Sunday Nicky finds himself dragged out of his apartment by a surprisingly insistent Nile, considering they just met. To his further shock, she brings him to a cozy apartment containing Booker, Andy, and Quỳnh. “You need a life other than bartending, writing, and babysitting the kids of the man you’re in love with,” Andy says with exasperation when Nicky questions what the fuck is going on. 

Stiffening, Nicky sneaks a glance at Nile, but she just rolls her eyes. “Andy’s right, and we might as well get a head start meshing our friend groups together while Joe has his latest existential crisis.” Lips twitching at the reminder of Joe’s occasional dramatics, Nicky accepts a cup of coffee from a gruff Booker. He’s an early riser but that doesn’t mean he’s fully cognizant when a woman he barely knows knocks on his door at 8:00AM on a Sunday. 

“So you’re okay with…” Nicky trails off, gesturing in the air helplessly. 

Nile simply shoots him a fondly exasperated smile. “You should hear how Joe talks about you. Of course I’m gonna be okay with anyone who makes that man grin like an utter dumbass.” Nicky ducks his head, a blush warming his cheeks. Every time he hears that Joe talks about him, Nicky feels his heart flutter like a lovesick teen. A tangle of anticipation and love curls in Nicky’s gut, a familiar feeling lately. Even without Booker and Nile’s confirmation, he can tell how Joe feels about him; Joe’s not very discreet with his looks and lingering touches. (Not that Nicky is any better.) But he meant what he said to Booker; Nicky will wait as long as Joe needs. Though it’s almost a relief having others know how he feels.

“Anyway, I thought trial by fire,” Nile remarks blithely as, to Nicky’s horror, she pulls out a game of Monopoly. “No better way to know a person than playing a highly competitive game with money on the line,” she says with cheer. Having unwelcome flashbacks to the time Nicky, Andy, and Quỳnh attempted to play this game last, Nicky gulps. As long as Quỳnh isn’t banker maybe it won’t end in bloodshed.

*******

After his impromptu trip to Chicago, Joe has felt like a weight has lifted from his shoulders. The lingering guilt hanging like a cloud over his head at the prospect of allowing himself to love again has begun to dissipate with each reminder of Nile and Patricia’s words. And every time he questions whether starting a relationship is the healthiest thing for his kids, he remembers Nicky’s reassurance about staying in their lives, remembers the adoration in the other man’s eyes every time he's with them. Now it’s just a matter of telling Nicky how he feels. Joe is 99.9% sure his feelings are returned but that doesn’t mean that the concept of confessing his feelings and all the implications following that doesn’t terrify Joe out of his mind. 

Shaking his head to try to clear his racing thoughts, Joe steps into the apartment only to freeze, a burst of laughter lodged in his throat. 

“No no patatina remember your measurements,” a flour-covered Nicky exclaims, scrambling and failing to stop Amani from dumping what looks like half a bag of flour into an already overflowing bowl. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Joe asks, closing the door and trying to control the laughter still bubbling up his throat. Casting a gaze around the apartment, Joe’s heart squeezes as he notices streamers hanging throughout the living room and Cow gleefully pouncing on the various balloons scattered about. 

“You’re never home this early!” Nicky says with something close to panic, twirling around to stare at Joe with wide eyes and wild hair.

Lips twitching at the endearing image that he will absolutely be drawing later, Joe shrugs. “Basim and Amani seemed excited about celebrating my birthday tonight so I wanted to spend as much time as I could with them.”

Nicky glances furtively at the children before running a flour-covered hand through his already disastrous hair. “Your children had the wonderful idea to bake you a cake for your birthday,” he finally announces in a strained voice. Assessing the destroyed kitchen hopelessly, Nicky turns back to Joe with a grimace. “We may have been a tad enthusiastic.” 

Joe can’t help it. Bursting into laughter, Joe shakes his head and walks into the kitchen, crouching down to his chocolate and flour-covered children. “What a lucky baba I am to have such thoughtful little monsters,” Joe grins, wrapping them in his arms and resigning himself to doing a load of laundry later. 

“And Nicky Mouse made your favorite dinner!” Basim pipes up, pulling away to turn to his babysitter with a grin. 

“Oh?” Joe inquires, trying to guess what meal it could be since he loves everything Nicky makes. 

A sly smile crosses Nicky’s face, making a delighted shiver skitter down Joe’s back. “Shiitake mushroom chicken, of course,” he says innocently. 

Joe groans, standing up to wrap Nicky in a hug. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?” he mutters in the smug man's ear.

Nicky presses his face to Joe’s shoulder and Joe finds he can’t help grinning at the feeling of curved lips against his mussed shirt. “Never in your life tesoro,” Nicky responds cheerfully before pulling back to assess Joe with a wince. “Now go take a shower and get cleaned up. By the time you’re out, the kitchen should look less like a bakery that exploded.”

Joe can’t stop grinning like an idiot as he showers. Seeing Nicky, harried and fondly exasperated as he tried to reign in his little monsters, Joe couldn’t help but imagine countless more days like this. Nicky with his endless patience guiding tiny hands and eager fingers as they measure and pour. Amani and Basim growing older and more competent until Joe is banned from the kitchen entirely. And Nicky...Nicky always there. 

As he scrubs his hair, Joe’s resolve solidifies. He’s going to do it today. He’s going to tell Nicky how he feels. 

When Joe emerges from the bathroom a few minutes later, dripping, he freezes. Nile, Booker, and two women who, based on Nicky’s descriptions, are Andy and Quỳnh, are all gathered in the living room, pulling off jackets while Joe is _half naked._ Turning at the surprised yelp he makes, Nicky’s lips twitch while the rest bark out a laugh.“Please Joe, none of us need to see that,” Booker protests, shielding Nile’s eyes and releasing a huff of laughter as Nile elbows him. 

Fighting between mortification and giddiness, Joe rolls his eyes. “You wish you could have some of this,” he says archly, gesturing along his body and delighting in how Nicky’s gaze darkens. A shy smile dancing on his lips, Joe ducks into his room, throwing on some jeans and a sweater instead of the sweats and sweatshirt he was planning before this surprise.

When he comes back out of the room, Joe’s heart melts. Nicky is kneeling on the ground, arms around Basim and murmuring in his ear while Quỳnh is crouched across from them with a soft smile. Nicky has been perfect for Basim since day one, gently encouraging him to stretch out of his comfort zone one step at a time. “Nile tells me that you fought a crocodile. Is that true?” Quỳnh asks in a hushed whisper. Joe’s brows furrow. When would she have spoken to Nile? Keeping himself tucked against Nicky’s chest, Basim shows her his arm wordlessly, thankfully cast-free and no worse for wear than it was before the accident. Meanwhile, Amani is dragging Andy through a tour of their still destroyed kitchen, chattering about what kind of cake they were (attempting) to make. 

“Are we making new friends Basi?” Joe asks, crouching next to Nicky and flashing a smile at Quỳnh. Nodding, Basim turns his head until he’s tucked into Joe’s chest. 

“I was planning on surprising you with Booker and Nile,” Nicky whispers, eyes worried as he gazes down at Basim. “I wanted you all to meet Andy and Quỳnh but not without some previewing first.” 

“Imagine our distress when Booker and Nile asked what we were bringing to the party and we had to admit we weren’t invited,” Quỳnh sighs. 

“Yes. Super distressed,” Andy says dryly as she’s tugged back into the living room. 

“Since when do you four know each other?” Joe inquires, settling onto the floor and leaning against Nicky so Basim can hold the other man’s hand as he studies the newcomers, still pressed against Joe’s chest. 

“We met when you were in Chicago and hit it off. We forced Nicky to hang with us but once you came back he ditched us for some reason,” Nile remarks with a knowing look.

“I was busy,” Nicky says with an uncomfortable shrug. To Joe’s bemusement, Nicky turns to scowl at the others. “But I don’t trust the four of you hanging out together without supervision, not since Monopoly.” 

Warmth curls and spreads through his chest as he processes this. He knows how much Andy and Quỳnh mean to Nicky so Joe was looking forward to meeting them when Nicky was ready. But knowing that their friend group has already melded without Nicky or Joe, and so well it seems, he can't help but see it as another sign that today is the day. “Well I expect an invite next time you get together. And I’ll drag Nicky with me too,” he comments with a grin. 

“Do we get to come too Baba?” Amani asks from where she’s seated herself into a bemused Andy’s lap.

Nerves that this part of his life may not mesh with the group shoots through him but Andy scoffs. “Who else will get to boss us around?” Joe relaxes, a small smile crossing his face as Andy glances up at him and winks. He should have known the two women Nicky cares about more than life would accept this part of Joe’s world. 

As an timer rings, Nicky ushers everyone into the living room, muttering to himself about buying a bigger table. Joe beams as he lets himself be bossed around. Nicky’s small touches are all over the apartment, from the art bins to actual table settings and a framed painting Joe did of Monique on the wall. That last one made Joe tear up when Nicky suggested it shyly. 

As Nicky and Booker begin serving everyone, Nicky seemingly bullying Booker into the task to Joe’s utter amusement, everyone finds a place in the living room. Joe immediately gravitates to the floor, waving off his guests’ protests and kissing Basim’s head when he crawls into his lap. Amani is bolder and places herself between Andy and Quỳnh on the couch, pestering them with questions a mile a minute which they handle with both patience and mild amusement. Nile brings chairs from the kitchen over for her, Booker, and Nicky to sit in but once he drops off the last plate, Nicky chooses the floor next to Joe instead. 

“Holy cow I’m coming every night if this is the kind of cuisine you’re getting,” Nile moans, shoving the chicken and mushrooms in her mouth. 

“What is this?” Booker asks through his own mouthful. 

“Baba loves shiitake mushrooms! He talks about them all the time so Nicky Mouse made him shiitake chicken,” Amani explains matter-of-factly. All eyes turn to Joe and Nicky, who both blush at the amused expressions of their friends.

“Shiitake mushrooms?” Booker deadpans.

“Nicky Mouse?” Quỳnh adds with poorly concealed delight. 

“I dare you,” Nicky says mildly with a raised brow before taking a dainty bite of his dinner. Joe snorts. Oh, he’s surrounded by assholes and he couldn’t be happier.

An hour later, everyone is attempting to eat the cake while Nicky stares at his slice with a pained expression. “Your children have many gifts. I don’t think baking is one of them,” Nicky sighs into Joe’s ear.

Joe closes his eyes, breathing in the scent of cedar and chocolate before smiling. “I suppose that means you need to stick around to teach them,” Joe says offhandedly, heart beating faster when Nicky shoots him a soft smile. “I suppose so.”

“Alright, as delicious as this cake is, I think we should move on to presents,” Andy announces as she strokes Cow imperiously. Instinctively knowing that arguing with Andy isn’t a good idea, Joe bites down on his protests that he doesn’t need any gifts. 

His eyebrows furrow with confusion when Quỳnh is the next one to speak though. “I know we’ve never met until today Joe but the amount that Nicky talks about you, we feel like we know you. Anyway,” Quỳnh shoots Booker an amused glance while he rolls his eyesー “Booker has been complaining about our non-alcoholic selection so we thought we would start remedying it with our latest drink. Think of it as an incentive to swing by the bar some time. It’s kid friendly.” Andy pulls out a flyer and hands it to Joe who takes it with bemusement. In bold letters it says, _INTRODUCING: The Sparkling Wit_ with an image of a yellowish drink topped with what looks like mint leaves and lime. 

“We heard you have a weakness for sparkling water and mint tea,” Andy remarks. Gesturing to the flyer she explains, “It’s mint and lime with some honey. Nothing too fancy but it’s a start.” 

When Joe finally looks up numbly, trying to process the fact that a _drink_ was created for him, he spots Nicky staring at Andy and Quỳnh with wide eyes, mouth gaping open with shock. Seems like he’s not the only one caught off guard.

Before he can find any words to say, Booker throws a wrapped gift at Joe. Glaring at him, Joe shoots Andy and Quỳnh a baffled look. They don't even _know_ him. “That was incredibly thoughtful of you two,” he murmurs, lips twitching as Andy rolls her shoulders indifferently and Quỳnh gives a regal nod. Turning to where Basim is curled between him and Nicky, Joe waves the gift in front of him. “Want to help me unwrap it, habibi?” Grinning, Basim reaches up and helps tear through the glittery paper eagerly. Over the past hour he’s started to grow more comfortable and Joe has no doubt that by the end of the night he’ll be stepping out of his shell fully.

With the present unwrapped, Joe is greeted with a sleek sketchbook. “I have this sense that you may be running out of room in your millions of other sketchbooks,” Booker says with a sly smirk, glancing over at Nicky with a knowing look. 

Grumbling (because Booker knows he’s right), Joe flips through it. Hmm. Nice quality. “Thanks ass-paragus,” Joe mumbles, scowling when everyone around him snickers. 

“Baba loves calling Uncle Booker ‘asparagus,’” Basim whispers. 

Andy and Quỳnh grin down at him, mirth twinkling in their eyes. “I wonder how he came up with such a creative nickname,” Andy muses idly. Joe just hides his face in his new sketchbook in response. 

Nile goes next, handing Joe a painting she created. When Joe first met her, he urged Nile to pursue her art career; that kind of talent shouldn’t be wasted. After years of slogging through, she had her first exhibition a few months before Monique died. Joe is grateful Monique was able to have even a glimpse of what Nile was going to achieve. She’s launched her career at this point and Joe couldn’t be more proud. And now he stares at a piece of artwork painted with loving strokes depicting Joe reading a story to Basim and Amani. Tears well up in his eyes as he brushes revenant fingers across a painting that would cost hundreds if Nile was selling it. 

Somehow she captured the joy and love and adoration Joe possesses in the hand his image is waving, in the curve of his lips and the light of his eyes. Remarkably she harnessed the eagerness in the children as they lean forward to follow the story, as their eyes spark with excitement. The background is a midnight blue interspersed with stars, one star shining brighter than all the rest as it looks down on them. He can imagine who that star represents.

Joe jolts away when a teardrop spills onto the painting, fearful of marring it. Wiping away his tears Joe stares at Nile uselessly. “This isー” his words dry up. 

“Happy birthday big bro,” Nile says with a small smile. 

Lurching up, Joe snatches Nile from her chair to tug her into a tight hug. “Thank you okhti,” he whispers fiercely. 

“Love you Joe,” she whispers back. 

When he draws back, Joe takes a shaky breath, surveying the room. “Thank you all for your thoughtful gifts. They’reー” “Not done,” Nicky interrupts, pulling out another wrapped gift he had tucked away somewhere. 

As Basim tugs him back to the floor, Joe obediently plops back down. “You really didn’t need to go to all the trouble,” he protests helplessly. 

Nicky just shakes his head while Booker kicks him. “You deserve to be spoiled every once and awhile,” Booker proclaims. 

Shooting him a watery smile, Joe unwraps the gift, breath catching when it’s unveiled. In a beautiful wooden frame is an excerpt of a poem Joe has memorized and recited countless times; a poem he spent an entire evening with Nicky gushing about to him. In beautiful calligraphy, the words dance across the page. 

_You may shoot me with your words,  
You may cut me with your eyes,  
You may kill me with your hatefulness,  
But still, like air, I’ll rise.  
_

When Joe finally feels like he can speak past the lump lodged in his throat he croaks, “Where did you get this? The calligraphy is gorgeous.” 

When he doesn’t get an answer Joe looks up to find Nicky shifting uncomfortably. “I...may have done it myself,” he mutters, looking away. Joe simply gapes at him. Eventually, Nicky shoots him a sheepish smile. “When you’re a closeted, repressed, Catholic gay kid you gotta pick up some hobbies,” he murmurs. 

Heart clenching painfully, Joe draws Nicky into a tight embrace. “It’s bittersweet that you can create such beauty from so much pain,” he whispers, closing his eyes as Nicky tightens his arms around Joe. “But I’m thankful for your gift.”

When they finally draw away, both men’s eyes are slightly overbright but Nicky is smiling. “I think your final gift is the best one though,” he comments enigmatically. Before Joe can question what he means, Amani and Basim jump up and run into the kitchen, rifling through one of the drawers. “The kitchen is a perfect hiding place for your gifts since you aren’t allowed in there any more,” Nicky teases. Huffing out an incredulous laugh, Joe watches as his children carry an object the size of a book that certainly doesn’t need two people to carry it. “They did this all on their own,” Nicky murmurs, leaning towards Joe. “All I helped with was some spelling and attention redirection.” 

As Basim and Amani hand Joe their gift, bouncing on their toes, Joe’s lips twitch. Apparently Nicky left the wrapping of the gift to the kids too. “I’m such a lucky baba to have two precious monsters give me a gift,” he exclaims, gently unwrapping it before freezing. In his hands is a sloppily stapled booklet with the title, _32 rezins we luv u baba._ “I _attempted_ to give spelling assistance,” Nicky mutters with a huff of laughter. Grinning, Joe shakes his head. God, 32. Where’s the time gone? Gently flipping the page, Joe's grin widens. _1 U let as war uor hats,_ the first page states with an accompanying crayon drawing of Amani and Basim grinning and wearing hats that Joe has certainly never owned. 

Flipping to the next page, Joe feels a lump growing in his throat. _2 U giv th bes hugz._ Sniffing, Joe continues through the gift and doesn’t make it to #10 ( _u awas mak umme pan kaks_ ) before he’s full on crying. Both children sit in his lap, pointing out their drawings and who came up with which number with youthful pride while Joe can only nod helplessly along. The final page has Joe catching his breath though. “I promise I didn’t tell them to write that,” Nicky says awkwardly. Joe barely registers it, still fixated on that page. _32 U mad nike awr babe siter._ Heart beating fast, Joe raises his head to stare into Nicky’s eyes as the other man plays with his half-eaten cake. He can’t avoid the feeling blooming in his chest anymore; Joe fears he’ll choke if he tries to keep it in any longer. 

He shakes his head. But that’s for later. Now Joe needs to try to find the words to express the love he has for his remarkable children that is threatening to bubble over. 

Turning back to his kids Joe croaks, “I’m the luckiest baba in the whole wide world.” Placing the book reverently to the side, Joe gathers the most precious people in his life into his arms and burrows his face in their wonderfully wild hair. “I love you with all my heart and soul my beautiful little monsters,” he whispers fervently. 

The rest of the evening is less emotionally intense, thankfully. Joe wants to make _some_ kind of good impression on Andy and Quỳnh. As he hoped, by the time bedtime comes around, Basim has crawled out of his shell enough to show Quỳnh his current favorite drawing while Amani hasn’t lost any steam as she continues to find questions to ask Andy, to the woman’s amusement. In between, Joe manages to have some brief conversations with Andy and Quỳnh and can absolutely understand why Nicky adores them, even if they hadn’t essentially saved him from a miserable fate. 

It takes longer than usual to put the kids down, still brimming with energy from the excitement of the day. After five stories and a lullaby or two however, they finally settle down enough to slip off to sleep. The rest of the group headed out as they brought the kids to bed, knowing that Basim and Amani would refuse to go down if there was still a party going on. When Joe and Nicky emerge from the bedroom, Joe’s relieved to see that the kitchen and living room are spotless. His friends are assholes but they’re also saints. 

Trailing his hand across the painting hanging proudly in the living room (the poem and book will be staying safely in Joe’s room) Joe sinks down into the couch with a sigh. “You are incredible Nico,” Joe says, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. 

“It was the least I could do Joe. Entering your life has been the biggest blessing since I met Andy and Quỳnh,” Nicky murmurs, settling down beside him. 

Watching Nicky out of the side of his eye, Joe takes a deep breath. Today is the day. 

“Wanna watch an episode of Great British Bake Off?” he asks desperately, mentally groaning and berating himself. Goddammit. So much for that. Okay, he just needs a mental pep talk. He’ll get there. Eventually.

“Nicky…” Humming and turning from the showstopper segment of the second episode of the night, still riding high on the success of tonight’s party despite the early hiccups, Nicky’s breath catches in his throat at Joe’s expression. “Am I imagining how you feel?” Joe whispers, eyes searching Nicky’s face. 

Swallowing, Nicky averts his gaze. After so long cradling the gem of his love with tender fingertips, you would think Nicky would know what to say here. But all of his words seemed to have fled him. “Joe, I care about you and the children more than I can name and I will be content living the rest of my days in whatever role you three would like,” he finally says. Gentle fingers guide Nicky’s face to turn back to Joe and Nicky finds he can’t fight it. “I will never be more than you wish me to be,” Nicky rasps, unblinking as he stares into those deep eyes that have blessed his dreams.

“And if I want you? To be more?” 

Nicky swallows around a dry throat. He should have known Joe would meet this head on, bold as he is. “Then we would go at your pace,” he says simply.

Joe sags and closes his eyes as though that was the answer he was praying for. When he opens them again, Nicky is half expecting to be kissed with the way Joe gazes at him but instead Joe draws away and drags a hand down his face. “You can do a lot better than a barely functioning widow with two kids,” Joe says bitterly. 

“Don’t.” Joe’s eyes widen and even Nicky is shocked at how harshly he spoke that word. “Don’t speak like that about the man I love.” His voice cracks, gasping as the words he tended to in the hollow of his chest like a blooming flower hit the air. Joe’s eyes glisten in the neon brightness of the forgotten TV as he stares unblinkingly at Nicky. “You are _everything_ I could hope for and nothing I thought I could ever have. Each morning I wake with a smile on my face because I know I’ll be greeted with your wild curls as you rush out the door before I get to spend time with two of my favorite people in the world. Each afternoon I look forward to picking the children up so I can be swept up into whatever absolute chaos they cook up that day,” he says with a huff of laughter before shaking his head. 

“Each evening I wait in eager anticipation for when I can witness you smile around the food I make for you and watch you care for your children with so much love I _ache_ and each night I can stay after they go to bed feels like the warmest embrace as I’m wrapped up into the beauty that is your mind and your art and _you.”_

Nicky finishes his speech feeling breathless and hollowed out as all the words he’s kept hidden pour from his mouth in a torrent. Joe sits still staring at Nicky, gaping and speechless for perhaps the first time since he’s known the remarkable man. 

Opening and shutting his mouth multiple times as Nicky can feel his cheeks warming, Joe finally clears his throat. “I would like very much to kiss you now Nicolò,” he croaks. 

Nicky feels a bright smile that only Joe and his children seem to be able to coax out of him spread across his face. “I would be amenable to that,” he says weakly, and _oh_ so _that’s_ what Joe’s laughter tastes like Nicky muses before he’s utterly swept away and overtaken by the man before him. By the lightly calloused fingertips from years of creating beauty, by the soft lips that trace Nicky’s own with a shyness so foreign to the exuberant man before him. Releasing a pathetic whimper, Nicky reaches a hand out to trace along the beard Nicky adores, the wrinkles around Joe’s eyes that speaks of years of laughter, before all he can do is cradle the face of the most precious man he has ever known as he loses himself in an exchange of love. 

When they finally draw away, both men lean their foreheads together, loath to be too far from each other so soon. “Iー” Joe starts before choking off, staring at Nicky helplessly. 

Smiling softly, Nicky tastes Joe’s lips with a gentle caress before leaning against him once more. “I know amore mio,” and _god_ it feels good to feel those words cross his lips. “Take as long as you need.” 

Those eyes Nicky finally allows himself to get lost in grow wide and wet. “That’s not fair to you Nicoー” and Nicky cuts him off once more, pouring his devotion into the brush of his lips. 

“This is not a transaction Yusuf,” he says, running his fingers through the hair Nicky loves so much and feeling that curl of pleased warmth as Joe relaxes into the touch. “We don’t need to rush this.” 

“Are you sure?” Joe whispers, eyes fluttering open from where he closed them.

“We go at your pace or not at all tesoro,” Nicky says firmly. 

“Bossy,” Joe teases, causing Nicky to roll his eyes before both of them sober again. “And if this is all I can do? Brief kisses in the dark?” Joe asks, looking down. 

Lifting Joe’s chin with gentle fingers Nicky shrugs. “Then I will treasure every one and feel their embrace in each smile you send me, with each brush of our hands,” Nicky replies simply. 

Joe gazes at him with what Nicky can finally humbly describe as adoration burning in his eyes. “What did I do to deserve you?” 

Nicky shakes his head gently, brushing a thumb along Joe's cheek. “Love is not about deserving. Love is about two souls recognising each other and saying, _Yes, you.”_

Joe releases an incredulous laugh. “This is what I get for falling for a writer,” he says with a shake of his head, beaming warmly as he gazes at Nicky like he’s something precious. 

“Takes one to known one Mr. Poet,” Nicky gently teases, thinking of the long nights he’s spent enraptured by the passion of Joe's hands and voice as he wove poetry out of thin air. 

This time Joe moves forward first, and seconds bleed into minutes as they both work to memorize the taste and touch of each other. It’s gentle and soft and nothing Nicky has ever experienced with his past lovers. 

When they finally pause once more, they’re face to face, lying precariously across the couch. “You will be patient with me?” Joe asks, tracing a finger along Nicky’s cheek. 

Catching Joe’s hand and pressing a kiss across the other man’s palm before placing it over his heart Nicky breathes, “It is not patience when I can feel your love even when we do not touch.” When Joe stares at him helplessly, Nicky can’t stop himself from feeling slightly smug. Making the English teacher speechless twice in an hour must be a record. Softening, Nicky changes the topic to more steady ground. “I can continue to be a babysitter in the eyes of Basim and Amani, in fact I _want_ to spend as much time as I always have with them, but on paper I’m afraid I may need to quit. Not too ethical to be going steady with my boss,” he adds with a quirk of his lips. 

Groaning, Joe presses his face against Nicky’s chest. “Is that what Basim meant when he mentioned you said dating me would be ‘unedible?’” 

Bursting out into laughter, heart fluttering as he can feel Joe’s grin against his chest, Nicky shakes his head. “I can’t believe he remembered that conversation,” Nicky muses, mindlessly twining his fingers through Joe’s hair. 

“If you won’t take my money I’ll have to insist I pay you by other means,” Joe says contemplatively after a moment’s silence. 

“Oh?” Nicky prompts, heart racing as he gazes at the mischievous light in Joe’s eyes. 

“Perhaps a payment in kisses?” he suggests playfully, before leaving Nicky breathless with just that. 

“I think I could be amenable to that,” Nicky says faintly when they part once more. 

Humming, Joe burrows himself back into Nicky’s chest, arms wrapped around him in a secure embrace. “And through my artwork I believe,” he adds determinately. “Portraits so you can see how I see you and illustrated pages for your future bestseller.” Nicky’s breath catches. They haven’t really mentioned Nicky’s (well, _their_ ) book since that fateful night, but Nicky has spent weeks making tweaks to the storyline now that he’s visualizing it as a graphic novel instead. That shift in format was like a switch, and all the plot points Nicky hated and the writing blocks he struggled with have been lifted and blown away. 

“Wait to worry about it in summer like you said butー” Nicky forces himself to tamp down on the excitement bursting through his chest at the prospect of seeing his vision painted in loving detail by Joe’s handー” I’ll send you what I’m working on.” And desperate to memorize what Joe’s smile tastes like as Joe leans back to grin at him, Nicky returns to his study. The rest of the night passes in a fog of gentle caresses, tender words, and love, love, _love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I made Nicky more of a poet in that love confession than Joe but you can’t have a man say “The love of my life is of the people I was taught to hate” and NOT believe that man can give as good as he gets. Hope the confession was what you all were hoping for!
> 
> The poem is _“Still I Rise”_ by Maya Angelou. 
> 
> Also for those of you who caught it/are curious, in my head Merrick was behind the wheel and killed Monique but because of *gestures to him* he weaseled out of it with a settlement. Joe insisted on Patricia having half with the rest going into the kids’ future education.
> 
> Tune in next time to see if I _actually_ stick to my latest chapter count *face palms*


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone gets sick and someone else drops everything. And later? More communication!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you thought the dramatic declarations of love ended last chapter then THINK AGAIN (and also I don’t know what fic you think you’re reading…) 
> 
> On another note, I’ve officially given up on chapter counts, something I should’ve done several updates ago. This fic has officially gone off the rails and I can’t even feel sorry about it. Thank you to those of you still reading and supporting this fic, I truly appreciate it! 
> 
> (Also, we’re back to regular chapter lengths, yay!)

Joe and Nicky are only able to enjoy a week of their new relationship bliss before shit hits the fan. 

“What kind of person gets sick in April?” Joe whines from under a pile of blankets as Nicky checks his temperature and tuts.

“An overworked father who has spent far too many late nights drawing,” Nicky replies with gentle disapproval. 

“You awake the artist in me Nico!” Joe protests before sneezing. 

Handing Joe a box of tissues, Nicky shakes his head with a huff. “You’re a ridiculous man.”

“A ridiculous man you love,” Joe attempts to croon before breaking into a fit of coughs. 

Nicky just gives him a look despite the butterflies surging through his stomach at that word crossing Joe’s lips. (Even if Joe hasn’t said those words himself yet. But that’s okay; Nicky doesn’t need to hear the words to know how Joe feels.) “That would be more endearing if you didn’t just pronounce ‘love’ like ‘lub,’” Nicky remarks dryly, stroking Joe’s sweat-soaked curls. 

“Or is it _more_ endearing?” Joe suggests with stubborn optimism. 

Fighting the way his lips twitch (because Joe is right) Nicky tucks the blankets around him more securely. “I think the fever is affecting your brain. Now rest, okay? I’ll check in on you in a bit.” 

“You really don’t need to stay,” Joe mumbles as he burrows under blankets. “Don’t you have a shift?” 

Nicky just shoots him a puzzled look. “You’re sick. Of course I’m staying.” (Yes he was teased mercilessly for calling out one week into this relationship but that’s between Nicky and the assholes he calls his friends.) 

The moment Nicky shuts the door on Joe’s room, he’s accosted by two anxious children. “Is Baba okay? Does he have to go to hospital? Is he gonna die?” Amani’s questions come at Nicky rapid-fire making his head spin while Basim grips her hand tightly, looking solemn. 

Kneeling on the ground Nicky squeezes the children’s clasped hands. “Your baba is fine, he just has a cold. We only don’t want you in there so you don’t catch it yourself,” Nicky soothes. When neither child looks placated, Nicky furrows his brow. “Has your baba never been sick before?” At the children’s head shakes, Nicky hums skeptically. Knowing Joe, he probably has but just hid it somehow because he’s stubborn and ridiculous. “Well, all your baba needs is some rest and some love. And you know what I think will help?” he asks in a conspiratorial whisper. Both children step closer, eyes wide and eager. “I bet if we made him some get well cards, he’ll be out of bed before you know it.” 

With determined nods, Amani and Basim scurry to their art bin, pulling out their materials and settling at the table. When Nicky sits next to them to watch, Basim pauses the drawing he’s started. “Aren’t you going to make a card too, Nicky Mouse?” he asks, tilting his head. Heart warming as it always does at that ridiculous nickname, Nicky smiles and pulls a piece of paper and marker towards himself. 

“How do you spell ‘feel better?’” Amani asks, tongue sticking out as she draws a heart across her page. While Nicky spells out the words, he can’t help grinning. Even with his instruction, the e ends up backwards and the f can only be generously called a letter. It’s adorable. 

Studying his own page, Nicky frowns. It seemed a tad silly writing a get well card himself but now he’s grappling with what to create. “You should draw a heart too,” Amani helpfully informs Nicky. Obeying the order with a small grin, Nicky draws a careful heart in the center of the page. Even that simple drawing pales in comparison to the mindless doodles Joe makes in the notes of his lesson plans, but it’s the effort that counts. Smiling to himself, Nicky draws a picture of Cow in the center of the heart before creating a speech bubble that says _Feel better!_

Both kids giggle when they see his drawing. “Baba should give you drawing lessons,” Amani teases. 

Nicky gasps dramatically. “You don’t think it’s good?” 

Basim climbs into his lap. “It is very good but Baba says it’s always important to challenge yourself and work to get better,” Basim responds, patting Nicky’s head. “And if you keep practicing you will get better!” 

“That’s what I meant,” Amani pouts. “Baba says that it’s okay to ask for help so you should ask him for help!” Nicky glances between these sweet children trying to support him and his terrible drawings. Just when he thought he couldn’t love them more... 

“I appreciate your help cuccioli,” Nicky murmurs with a smile. 

As they finish their drawings, Nicky checks the fridge and pantry before clicking his tongue. He was hoping they had ingredients for chicken soup. “What do you say about going to the grocery store so I can make something to help your baba feel better?” he turns around and asks. Both children respond with an enthusiasm that would most likely be surprising when faced with the prospect of grocery shopping if it wasn’t with the intention of helping their father. Though knowing this family, it’s equally possible they love the grocery store because Joe’s made a game out of it. That seems like something that lovely man would do.

Checking that Joe is still passed out, Nicky writes a quick note in case he wakes and slips it on the bedside table Grabbing some reusable bags stuffed in the closet, Nicky hangs them over his shoulder and locks the apartment before having both children hold his hands. The walk to the grocery store isn't too far; when Joe moved here it was clearly with the thought of keeping as many things within walking distance as possible, unsurprisingly. 

Once he grabs a cart and orders the kids to keep one hand on him or it at all times, Nicky pulls out his grocery list. “Nicky Mouse let’s go down here!” Amani exclaims, grabbing Nicky’s free hand and dragging him down the candy aisle while Basim clings onto Nicky as his silent shadow. 

“Whoa slow down Amani! How about you hold our grocery list, sì? It’s a big responsibility.” Skidding in her tracks at the prospect of having a Responsibility, Amani snatches the list with greedy fingers. Of course, she can’t actually _read_ anything on it but Amani is determined to provide any assistance she can, making up what she _believes_ is written and bagging the vegetables Nicky points to with determined focus. Basim stays mostly silent, watching the proceedings with timid eyes. Crowds and public places are never his favorite. When he’s asked to carry an onion though Basim perks up slightly. 

Once the last item is crossed off his list, Nicky begins guiding them back towards the registers, pausing when Basim tugs his arm. “Candy aisle?” he prompts hopefully, eyes big and begging. Glancing to his other side at where Amani is wearing an identical expression, Nicky sighs. Goddammit. 

Turning back around, Nicky leads them down the candy aisle. “ _One_ thing between the two of you,” he orders. 

The twins whisper to each other, nodding and shaking their heads before making a determination. Amani nudges her brother towards the shelf and after a brief hesitation, Basim stretches on his toes and reaches for a bag of gummies. “They’re baba’s favorite,” he whispers. Nicky’s heart melts. Could these children be more precious? 

Checking out turns into an expedition, Amani eager to continue to be helpful and Basim feeling comfortable enough to wish to help as well. As they argue over who gets to put what on the belt, Nicky greets the cashier and sets up his bags. Turning and noticing that only one thing is on the belt so far, Nicky huffs out a breath of laughter. As he eyes the line beginning to grow behind them, Nicky crouches down to their level. “Amani, since you did a lot of the helping while we were shopping, do you think you can let Basim help with this?” he asks gently. 

Amani bites her lip, tightening her grip on the bag of celery she’s currently fighting Basim over before she slumps. “Fiiiine,” she grumbles. 

“That’s my patatina,” Nicky grins, kissing Amani’s forehead which seems to brighten her right up. 

"And thank you for offering to help too, passerotto mio," Nicky adds, kissing Basim's cheek. 

As Basim reaches up to carefully place the celery on the belt with a grin, Nicky returns to the cashier. Smiling down at where Amani is now handing Basim the food so he doesn’t have to reach into the cart each time, the woman comments, “You have some sweet kids.” 

Nicky balks before he begins stuttering out, “They’re notーthat is, their motherー” Grimacing, Nicky swallows before shooting her a strained smile, because this kind lady isn't asking for their life story. “Thanks.” Fortunately, the kids were too busy discussing the best item to place on the belt next to notice the cashier’s mix up. 

They’re walking back hand in hand again while Nicky juggles the bags as well when Amani says his name. “Hmm?” he responds, stumbling as a bag tries to slip off his arm again. Fidgeting with a dangling carrot stem she says, “Baba was gonna do my hair today. Can you do it?” 

Nicky stiffens, warmth and apprehension curling in his gut all at once. It’s a routine Nicky has witnessed a few times when he spends time with the family off the clock. Basim usually entertains himself with his toys and Cow, chattering to them while Amani sits as still as she ever is and Joe works on her hair with a concentration that is utterly endearing. Nicky has watched them with fondness and awe both as Joe would seem to attempt a different style nearly every week, but that doesn’t mean that he has the slightest sense of how to do any of that himself. “I’m sorry patatina, but I don’t know how,” Nicky sighs, heart twisting at Amani’s downcast expression. “But perhaps I can learn, sì?” he adds desperately. “And when your baba is feeling better I’m sure that he will do your hair.” 

Perking up slightly, Amani lets go of the carrot and starts swinging Nicky’s arm back and forth instead. Since the crosswalk light turns red as they reach the curb, Nicky instructs Amani and Basim to hold hands for a moment. Pulling out his phone, he quickly searches up some videos and articles and saves them for later. He doesn’t want to see that expression on Amani’s face again if he can help it, though he should run the prospect of him helping with her hair by Joe first. Nicky doesn't want to insert himself where he understandably may not be welcomed.

When they get back, Nicky checks on Joe to find him still fast asleep. Nodding to himself, Nicky gets started on the soup while Amani and Basim entertain themselves. Though he continues to check on Joe throughout the rest of the day, he never stirs, deep asleep. Clearly he's needed the rest. Despite the kids wanting to say goodnight to him, Nicky persuades them against that with the lure of extra bedtime stories and the prospect of double goodnight kisses from their baba tomorrow. 

Once they’re down, Nicky begins spooning out some chicken soup to wake Joe with when he hears the shuffling of bare feet. Turning, Nicky’s heart squeezes painfully at the sight that greets him. Wearing the same hoodie and ratty sweatpants Nicky stole that wonderful snow day months ago, hair absolutely sleep-mussed and eyes half-lidded, Joe has wrapped himself inside a fluffy blanket that’s dragging behind him like a cape. He is the most beautiful thing Nicky has ever seen. 

“Where ‘re the kids? Gotta put them to bed,” Joe mumbles, resting against a wall to release a series of coughs and catch his breath. And just like that, that swoon-worthy love pulsing through him makes way for fond exasperation. God, Nicky is in love with the most ridiculous and sweet man that has ever existed.

“They’re already in bed amore mio, which is exactly where you should be,” Nicky chastises gently. 

Joe just blinks slowly before a grin inches across his face, head still leaning against the wall. “Thank you Nico,” he rasps before sneezing three times in succession. Tsking, Nicky picks up the bowl of soup and ushers Joe back into the bedroom, holding him steady when he takes a stumbling step. Once Joe has successfully made it back under all the blankets, Nicky hands him the bowl of soup. “I want every drop to be swallowed and then a whole glass of water drunk before you go back to sleep,” Nicky orders. 

That sleepy smile spreads across Joe’s face again and _god_ does he want to kiss him. “Bossy,” Joe murmurs. 

Rolling his eyes, Nicky gestures towards the soup. “Eat.” 

There is a particular warmth that spreads through Nicky’s chest when Joe eats his food. Pride that he enjoys it, satisfaction that Nicky is able to provide for him, and tenderness for no other reason than because he’s watching Joe. Joe releases a soft moan, closing his eyes as he takes his first sip. “My taste buds are absolutely shot right now but I can still tell how delicious this is,” he hums. Turning his head, Joe looks at Nicky with those eyes that could convince him to do nearly anything. “You’re so good to me Nicolò,” he murmurs. 

Stroking a hand through Joe’s hair and rubbing a thumb along his forehead that’s still far too warm, Nicky just smiles down at him. “The feeling is mutual.” Because it is. He can tell Joe still feels uncertain about their relationship, about why Nicky would be interested in him, so Nicky takes every opportunity to remind Joe about how he feels. 

Nuzzling his hand, Joe turns back to his soup and obediently finishes it and a glass of water before settling down on his pillows. “I’ll be in the living room all night if you need me, okay?” Nicky asks, fighting the temptation to kiss Joe’s forehead. 

Blinking, Joe furrows his brow. “You don’t need to stay Nicky, especially on that lumpy couch,” he protests weakly. It also goes to show how sick Joe is that he's only _now_ commenting on Nicky sleeping there, since that's what he's been doing all weekend. Of course, there’s a better sleeping surface but considering it’s currently a sickbed Nicky has ruled it out. (No matter how desperate he is to feel Joe’s arms secure around him like they have been in the past when they have dozed off together.) Besides, sharing a bed even while sick is still far more intimate than sharing a couch and neither of them are in any rush to move this relationship too fast. 

“I’m staying and there’s nothing you can do about it,” Nicky says firmly. “Now get some rest.” 

The next morning, some of Joe’s sickly pallor is fortunately fading but his fever hasn’t fully broken yet. Nicky still doesn’t let him out of his bed but he keeps the door open so the kids can chatter to their father about what they did yesterday and so Joe can gush about how much he loves his get well cards. Nicky placed them on the bedside table for when Joe woke that morning, right next to the children’s gift to him. Across the wall from the bed hangs Nicky’s gift, and his heart always flutters when he spots it in such a place of honor. 

Since it’s a Monday, Nicky hurries the children to school before returning home. (No not homeー to _Joe’s apartment._ ) Joe being the stubborn and far too caring man he is, protested the idea of missing a day of work. It took deploying the power of both Amani and Basim’s puppy eyes to get him to stand down. (Nicky dreads the day those lethal weapons are turned on him.) But of course, when Nicky enters the apartment Joe is not only out of bed but is attempting to do the dishes Nicky planned to finish when he got back. “Yusuf al-Kaysani if you don’t get back to your bed right now I will hide your art materials for a week,” Nicky growls. 

When Joe turns his own powerful doe eyes on Nicky, his resolve would’ve most likely crumbled if the ridiculous man wasn’t also swaying on his feet. “Just trying to help Nicky,” he protests weakly. 

Shaking his head, Nicky grasps Joe’s arm and guides him back to his room. “You can help me by doing as you’re told and staying in bed.” 

Crawling into bed, Joe turns his back to Nicky and curls into a ball. “I don’t need a nagging nurse hovering over me 24/7,” he mumbles petulantly. 

Swallowing down a stab of hurt and reminding himself that Joe is sick and not at his most rational, Nicky takes a deep breath. “I’ll leave you some soup and then give you some space then.” Walking stiffly out of the room, Nicky pours some soup before returning to Joe’s huddled back. “I’ll be here until I have to pick the kids up. Don’t worry; I won't be nagging you,” he says, tone sharper than he would have liked. 

As Nicky does the dishes, he can’t help scrubbing them slightly harder than necessary, his thoughts a stormy cloud and his gut twisted in knots. Has he been a nag? Fuck, perhaps he has been a tad overbearing but he just wants Joe to heal. The more he pushes himself the longer it’ll take. 

Nicky is lost in the whirlwind of his thoughts so he misses the sound of a door opening until he hears a croaked, “Nico?” Turning, some of Nicky’s hurt melts slightly as he gazes at Joe’s miserable expression from where he stands wrapped up in the same fluffy blanket from yesterday. Shuffling his feet, Joe looks down. “Can we talk?” 

Panic laces through him at those ominous words but Nicky forces himself to take a shaky breath. “Of course.” As they head towards the couch where they’ve spent countless nights growing closer and closer, Nicky has to fight off a sudden bout of nausea. Has he already ruined this? When Joe sinks onto the couch, Nicky has to sit on his hands to keep from reaching out. 

They’re silent for a long moment as Joe stares at the ground. “The last time someone had to take care of me, Monique had just died and Booker essentially moved into my apartment. I had hardly known him at that point since we work in different departments, but the moment he heard what happened he inserted himself in a part of my life that I hadn’t even realized was missing a piece. He helped the kids get ready for school, cooked for us, set up a routine with a rewards system for me like I was a child, told awful jokes just to penetrate the numbness consuming me.” 

Joe swallows and Nicky finds he can’t help himself; he reaches out a hand and clasps it over Joe’s. A breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding releases when Joe flips over his hand and laces their fingers together. “Of course I’ve been sick since then but not so bad the kids would really notice or that I would need help.” As if to emphasize his point, Joe releases a hoarse cough. “Having you take care of me has just been bringing back memories,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, that was unfair,” he finishes, head hanging low. 

Though he’s been trying to keep their touch to a minimum to limit the spread of sickness, Nicky can’t help reaching out and wrapping Joe in his arms, tension in his chest uncurling as Joe rests his head on Nicky’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to remind you of such a terrible time,” he murmurs. “I didn’t mean to nanny you, I justー” Nicky shrugs helplessly. 

“You just care about me?” Joe finishes. 

Nicky nods with a rueful smile. “Seems that way.” 

Releasing a laugh before falling into a fit of coughing, Joe wraps his blanket around himself more securely. “Could we maybe stay here? Watch something?” he asks in a small voice. 

Kissing the top of Joe’s head, Nicky reaches for the clicker. “Anything for you my love.” 

They’re watching a mindless competition show for a half hour when Joe speaks from his spot snuggled to Nicky’s side. “What do you get out of this?” 

Nicky frowns contemplatively. “The chance to judge people’s cooking and get irrationally invested in my favorite competitor,” Nicky comments. 

Pulling away, Joe wraps himself more securely in the blanket. “No,” he says, before gesturing between them. “This. You cook for us and take care of my kids and take care of _me_ and I’m not doing anything for you and instead of thanking you I snap at you andー” Joe’s increasingly more panicked tirade is interrupted by a series of coughs racking his frame. 

Tsking, Nicky rises to pour a glass of water before placing it in Joe’s hand. “Now look at you, working yourself up over nothing,” Nicky gently chastises. Once he takes a grateful gulp of water, Joe clasps his hands tightly around the glass, studying it with a furrowed brow. 

“Oh Joe,” Nicky sighs, when the other man makes no indication of responding. Slipping off the couch, Nicky kneels in front of him, placing his hands on the other man’s knees. Rubbing his thumb over the well-loved sweatpants, Nicky turns to stare in the distance in order to gather his thoughts. Finally he muses, “For centuries poets have attempted to capture what it means to love; novelists and playwrights have done the same. But I don’t think the human language is built to adequately express what love is. I could name a hundred reasons why I love you, but none of them would properly express how I feel.” 

Turning to look into those brown eyes that Nicky treasures, he tilts his head to the side. “You ask me what I get out of this.” Nicky shrugs. “I get your love. I get your children’s love. I get a sense of purpose, a home.” Squeezing Joe’s knees, Nicky shrugs helplessly. “I get you. And whether you think that’s enough or not, to me it’s more than I ever dreamed.” 

They stare at each other for a long silent moment, Joe’s eyes bright with emotion and Nicky’s not too much better. “I think Monique sent you to me,” Joe eventually whispers, causing Nicky’s heart to stutter. He doesn’t know if he believes in god, but he likes to believe in destiny, as infantile as it may seem. How else can Nicky explain the chance of Andy and Quỳnh sitting at the same bar as him all those years ago, so when he drunkenly dumped his whole sob story on a pair of strangers he was taken in rather than brushed aside? 

The idea that Joe and Nicky were similarly guided to find each other… “This is why you need to get better. Because I really wanna kiss you right now,” Nicky croaks, causing Joe to release a laugh that unfortunately devolves into another coughing fit. 

“That’s a good motivator,” he rasps with a tired smile. As Nicky rises and curls back beside Joe, he has a moment’s hesitation and doubt himself. “While we’re on the topic though...you know I would continue to babysit if there was someone else who caught your eye, right?”

“You haven’t caught my eye,” Joe says with disgust, drawing away once more. Nicky recoils but as he does Joe seizes his hands in a tight grip. “You have utterly consumed me,” Joe breathes, eyes blazing. “You consume my thoughts and my dreams and my sketchbook. I see you with my kids and you steal my breath. I see you smile and my heart skips a beat. No one I may pass on the street, no matter how beautiful or charming, could hold a candle to you when you laugh so loud you snort or when you sing off key as you cook or when you lecture me for not taking better care of myself.” 

Fuck it. 

Leaning forward, Nicky draws Joe into a fierce kiss, digging his fingers into the other man’s hair. The desperation and longing coursing through him is echoed in Joe’s ragged sigh as he falls into Nicky’s embrace.

All too soon though Joe surges back. “Are you crazy?! I’m gonna get you sick!” Joe exclaims before falling into a coughing fit. 

Handing Joe his half-drunk water, Nicky smiles crookedly. “If I get sick it’ll be your turn to deal with a grumpy patient.” 

Groaning, Joe tilts his head back. “I’m sorry Nicolò,” he sighs before sneezing. 

"You're excused." Kissing Joe’s forehead and frowning at how warm it is, Nicky asks, “Will you fight me if I ask you to try resting again?” 

Sneezing once more, Joe sniffs his nose. “Probably a good idea,” he mumbles, eyes already sinking shut. This time, there are no protests as Nicky ushers Joe to bed. “Thank you Nurse Nicky,” Joe says with a faint smile. 

Rolling his eyes Nicky kisses Joe’s forehead. “Sleep, my stubborn man.” 

Fortunately, Joe’s fever breaks the next day, and the hug that Amani and Basim tackle him with lasts several minutes. “Missed you Baba,” Basim whispers, making a face when Joe leaves a smacking kiss on his forehead. “Not that much!” he protests, drawing away before giggling when Joe pins him more firmly to his chest. 

“No wiggling away from your baba! I have three days of cuddles to make up for,” he declares. Nicky smiles softly at the tableau as he sorts through his hastily packed things. When he noticed that Joe was coming down with something on Friday, he rushed home to throw some clothes and a toothbrush in a bag before returning to take care of the stubborn man. Tonight will be the first time in four nights that he'll be staying at his own place, and the thought of that fills Nicky with a certain kind of cold. 

“Where are you going Nicky?” Amani asks, peering up from where she’s tucked under Joe’s arm. 

“I thought I would get out of your and your baba’s hair. Aren’t you sick of me after three days?” he half-teases. 

Nicky isn’t prepared for two small bodies barreling into him. “Nuh uh!” Basim says. 

“You should just move in with us then you never have to leave,” Amani says firmly, making Nicky choke and Joe’s eyes bulge out as he starts to stand up. 

“Nicky has his own place Amani, we can’t just have him move in with us,” he protests while Nicky remains speechless, throat sealed shut as his heart _aches_ at the prospect of living here instead of his barren apartment. 

Unable to handle Amani and Basim’s downcast expressions, he kisses the top of both their heads. “I’ll still be dropping you off and picking you up from school, okay cuccioli?” Nicky soothes. “Now why don’t we brainstorm what we want to eat for dinner while we walk there, hm?” At the children’s determined nods, Nicky smiles to himself. That should keep them distracted.

*******

“Nice to see you’ve recovered from the plague,” Booker remarks blithely, grinning at the glare Joe shoots him from behind a stack of student work. 

“What do you want, jackass?” he grumbles, hunkering over the current essay he would be able to grade if he didn’t have asshole history teachers as friends. 

“Oh, just found it _interesting_ that you took a sick day since the last time you did so was after I found you asleep in the staff lounge and I had to promise to take your children on a 'vacation' to Uncle Booker's so you wouldn’t infect or ‘panic’ them,” Booker says casually, flipping through an essay and acting like he’s actually pausing long enough to read anything. 

Snatching it from his grip Joe grits out, “The matter was taken out of my hands.” 

“Yes, from the reports I received, Nicky called out so he could nurse you back to health. A bit outside his babysitting and friendship duties, wouldn’t you say?” 

Joe attempts to school his expression but Booker’s slow smirk informs him he failed quite miserably. “Unless your relationship status has been updated? Perhaps since that birthday of yours?” he suggests with delight. 

Jumping to his feet, Joe tugs Booker to his face by the prick’s shirt, growling when this doesn’t seem to faze him. “Don’t breathe a _word_ of this to _anyone_ not even your girlfriend,” Joe hisses, before falling back to his seat and crossing his arms petulantly. “Still pissed at you about that by the way.”

“Well I’m pissed at how much money you lost me so I think we’re even,” Booker retorts, boinging one of Joe’s curls popping out from under his hat and laughing when Joe slaps him away. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Booker shrugs. “I’m happy for you Joe, but if you want to keep this on the down-low for awhile, I won’t breathe a word,” he promises. 

Joe softens. Booker’s an asshole but he’s a loyal asshole. “Thanks,” he mutters. 

“But tell me,” and there’s that shit-eating grin again as Booker leans on Joe’s desk, “Did he really make you homemade chicken soup?!” 

Students nearby when Mr. al-Kaysani drags Mr. le Livre out of his classroom by the ear don’t blink. This is a nearly daily occurrence after all. 

When Joe gets home it’s to the welcome sight of Nicky gently guiding Amani and Basim as he cooks. Since his birthday, Joe’s kids have gotten the cooking and baking bug to Nicky’s equal delight and despair. Dinners have certainly been a slightly different quality since then. Tonight, Amani is standing on one of the stools Joe bought for when the kids help him during Ramadan, holding a spoon with two hands as Nicky talks her through mixing something in a pot. Meanwhile, Basim is adding vegetables to the salad, literally one cucumber at a time. “Something smells delicious!” Joe moans with only slight exaggeration, closing the door and hanging his bag on the hook Nicky installed the last time he tripped over it. 

“We’ve been working on slowing down today,” Nicky comments, whispering something in Amani’s ear that makes her beam. Grinning, Joe wanders into the kitchen and peers into the pot. _Yes,_ Nicky’s red sauce is the _best._ As Joe reaches a finger in to taste though, he finds his hand whacked away by an imperious spoon. “Wash your hands you heathen,” Nicky orders with a raised brow and twitching lips. 

“Yeah hathen,” Basim giggles while Amani gleefully attempts to whack Joe with her own sauce-covered spoon, interfered by Nicky to Joe’s relief. 

Pressing a hand against his heart, Joe widens his eyes and pouts as he backs out of the room. “I feel so attacked. And in my own home, no less!” he exclaims, grinning at Nicky’s rolled eyes. 

“Save the dramatics for the theater!” Nicky calls. 

Once he’s washed up and changed into more comfy clothes, Joe returns to the kitchen. Watching how much the kids adore Nicky as they follow his gentle instructions, Joe is seized with an emotion he still can’t bring to words yet and finds himself impulsively sliding his arms around Nicky’s waist in response. Nicky startles for a second before turning to smile at Joe, causing him to register the significance of this position and how close their lips are. This is when most couples would kiss, right? Swallowing, Joe smacks a deliberately wet kiss on Nicky’s cheek after a conflicted moment, chuckling at the other man’s disgusted expression. “Thanks for helping my little monsters with dinner. What can I do?” 

“Can you pour some dressing and serve the salads amoー Joe?” Nicky asks. Wincing at Nicky’s hasty correction (it’s not like the kids are _that_ good at Italian, right?) Joe nods. As they settle down to eat, Joe and Nicky sitting across from Amani and Basim, Joe processes that near-kiss. It’s not that he doesn’t want to kiss Nicky or is _ashamed_ of him. It’s just...Nicky is the first adult in Amani and Basim’s lives outside of Booker and Nile who has stayed for a long period of time. And the first relationship Joe has had since…

So it’s not that he’s ashamed. He just needs some time. And Nickyー incredible, amazing, _wonderful_ Nickyー is willing to wait. Damn he’s lucky. As the children catch Joe up on their day, he reaches over to squeeze Nicky’s hand. Glancing over to him, Nicky shoots him a small smile, returning the gesture before drawing away. Joe frowns at where his hand now feels irrationally cold. Shaking off the rebuff as much as he can, Joe asks Basim a follow up question about his dinosaur story, smiling softly as his son’s eyes brighten with excitement. 

Once the kids are put to bed, Joe walks Nicky to the door since he has an earlier shift tonight. Despite his dislike of confrontation, Joe makes himself speak, for his children he reminds himself. If this isn’t going to work out, it’s better to find that out now before the kids start putting pieces together. “Were you upset earlier? That I didn’t kiss you?” 

Nicky pauses from where he’s tugging on his jacket, turning to Joe with a frown. “Of course not! Why would you think that?” 

Joe shuffles his feet and stuffs his hands into his sweats as he looks anywhere but at Nicky. Shrugging he mumbles, “You pulled away at dinner.” 

Cool hands guide Joe to face him and after a beat Joe meets Nicky’s eyes. “I pulled away because I know you need us to take this slow, especially in front of Amani and Basim,” Nicky says softly as he strokes his thumbs along Joe’s cheeks. “I meant what I said Yusuf. I’m happier than I think I’ve ever been and I don’t need this relationship to be more than it currently is. And if or when you’re ready for it to be more, I’ll be here.” 

Nicky releases a squeak as Joe launches forward and pulls him into a fierce kiss, pressing him against the door as he does. Recovering swiftly, Nicky returns the kiss with equal fervor, burying his fingers in Joe’s hair. God, only a few days since their last proper kiss and Joe’s half-starved. They get lost in each other for a long moment until Joe stumbles back, unwilling for it to get too heated for a number of reasons. Eyes drawn to Nicky’s lips as he licks them, Joe swallows. “Thank you Nico,” he whispers. 

Tilting his head, Nicky gives him one of those precious tiny smiles. “Nothing to thank me for.” Pecking Joe’s cheek, Nicky finishes tugging on his jacket. “See you tomorrow, love!” 

Heart fluttering at hearing that word cross Nicky’s lips (a word Joe will one day return), Joe closes the door. “See you tomorrow,” he whispers with a foolish grin, before hurrying into his room to capture the earlier scene from the kitchen into the sketchbook Booker got him. At the rate he's going, he'll need to buy another one soon.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Ramadan! Time for fasting, food, family, and friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to preview that I’ll be covering a topic (Ramadan) that is not part of my religion (I’m Jewish). Though I did my best to research thoroughly, it’s possible I’m misrepresenting something so please don’t hesitate to let me know if I did. One thing I’ll say is obviously there is a wide breadth of foods Muslims eat, especially on Ramadan, based on culture and geography, so since Marwan Kenzari is from Tunisia I stuck mostly with Tunisian cuisine along with other more universal dishes for Ramadan.
> 
>  **Updated note**  
>  Check chapter 13 for an explanation on Rawiya's name change

When Nicky gets to Joe’s apartment, he’s surprised to find Amani and Basim already eating breakfast while Joe watches on with drowsy eyes. “Are you stealing my job Yusuf?” he asks playfully, hanging his jacket and bag on the hook he bought after tripping over Joe’s briefcase one too many times. 

Rubbing his eyes, Joe shoots Nicky a tired smile. “No, I just have to wake up early for suhoor so I thought I might as well make the kids something as well.”

Nicky furrows his brow at the unfamiliar word. “Sorry, what does that mean?” he asks as he settles beside Joe. 

“It’s the pre-dawn meal Muslims eat for Ramadan,” Joe says through a yawn. Nicky blinks, suddenly feeling very dumb. He knows that Joe keeps halal and has spotted a worn copy of the Quran shoved between a complete works of Shakespeare and a poetry anthology but he never actually asked Joe how observant he is. Religion is one of the few topics they seem to stray away from by unspoken agreement, wary to trigger any unpleasant memories (from Nicky in particular). 

“Sorry, I had no idea...is there anything I need to do?” he asks, fidgeting under the table and feeling slightly lost. 

“Besides nudging me if it looks like I’m falling asleep?” Joe asks with a quirk of his lips. “No.” Stretching he muses, “Though if you could help the kids go through their old toys and choose some they’ll be giving for sadaqah that’d be great. Also don’t be surprised if Booker and Nile gatecrash dinner. Iftar is usually observed with a wider community.” Scratching his still sleep-mussed head he adds, “Feel free to invite Andy and Quỳnh if you want and if they’re free. The more the merrier.” 

Nicky’s head is spinning at the various unfamiliar words thrown at him so he can only nod dumbly. Before he can hope to get any clarification though, Joe’s reminder to leave for work goes off. Pushing away from the table, Joe kisses Amani and Basim’s heads before hesitating in front of Nicky and shooting him a strained smile. “I’ll see you all tonight. Be good for Nicky and remember to pick at least one toy each.” 

As Joe hurries out the door, Nicky turns to Amani and Basim, shaking his head and resolving to do some googling while they’re at school. 

Actually...tilting his head, Nicky asks, “Could you two tell me about Ramadan? I would love to learn about it.” 

For once Nicky is grateful for Joe’s habit of bringing art supplies to the table while he eats because he’s able to snatch the closest notebook and start scribbling notes while Amani and Basim enthusiastically tell him all about the various traditions and observances of Ramadan. 

As he walks back from dropping the kids off at school an hour or so later, Nicky begins compiling a grocery list in his head. He feels oddly nervous at the prospect of involving himself in iftar though and soon thumbs through his contacts for Nile’s number since she’s less likely to laugh at him than Booker. He has a moment to remember that not everyone works strange hours like him before Nile picks up on the third ring, sounding out of breath. “What’s wrong?”

Wincing, remembering the last time he called her, Nicky rushes out, “They’re fine! Just called for some advice.” 

“If it’s advice on how to ask Joe out, I’m hoping I’m the first person you’ve gone to,” Nile says wryly, sounding far more calm. Fuck, Nicky forgot that Joe hasn’t told his friends yet, though he doesn’t know how they haven’t figured it out. Andy and Quỳnh took one look at Nicky and knew so he’s had to bribe them with his cooking to keep them silent. 

“No, of course not,” Nicky stutters, raking a hand through his hair. “Today’s the first day of Ramadan and Joe says that you and Booker come over for iftar? And I was just wondering how I can help too?” 

“Aw, you’re so sweet Nicky! I’ll get you started on a group chat with me and Booker and we can collab. Sound good?”

“Yeah, sureー” Nicky is interrupted by a ding. Pulling his phone from his ear, he realizes that Nile has already set up the chat. 

**_Nile_ to Iftar Crashers** _Good news Book! We have a chef on our Ramadan team this year!_

Damn she works fast. “Thanks Nile,” he says, shaking his head. “See you tonight.” By the time he hangs up and starts heading towards the grocery store, there’s already been a response. 

**Booker** _Thank god cause I can’t cook for my life and Nile and Joe are workaholics_

 **Nicky** _Don’t you work too Booker?_

**Booker** _Yeah but I only run one after school club unlike mr overachiever over there_

 **Nile** _And unlike you he doesn’t attempt to text while ranting to his students about the Napoleonic wars_

 **Booker** _...snitch_

 **Nile** _Get back to work dumbass_

 **Nile** _Nicky I’ll send you the places Joe, Booker, and I pick up from and the names of our go to food so we don’t double dip. We try to get Tunisian cuisine cause that’s where Joe’s born and he always gets super nostalgic for the food around Ramadan. Thanks for the help man!_

Swiping out of whatsapp, Nicky launches a google search for Tunisian and Ramadan dishes, bookmarking recipes and pages as he blindly grabs a cart. Well, it’s a start. 

*******

**_Nile_ to everyone but the idiots** _Hey Andy and Quỳnh! Dunno if Nicky reached out yet but you both have a standing invite to iftar at Joe’s place all through Ramadan whenever you have an evening off. Food’s provided but feel free to bring your own. No alcohol though pls! Break fast happens at sunset but come whenever._

 **Andy** _Eh, we’re the bosses we go in to work whenever we want so we’ll see you tonight_

 **Quỳnh** _What my wife means is she can call out tonight since we’re overstaffed anyway and I don’t work mondays. We’ll play it by ear from there_

 **Andy** _My answer was better_

 **Quỳnh** _you’re a child_

 **Andy** _*surprised face with open mouth* I hope I’m not considering what you did to me last night *winking face*_

 **Nile** _I WOULD LIKE TO REMIND EVERYONE THAT THIS IS A GROUP CHAT AND THERE IS NO SEXTING_

 **Quỳnh** _want to remind us why we needed to institute that rule Nile and Booker? *smiling face with halo*_

 **Andy** _*winking face*_

 **Nile** _I hate you both_

 **Nile** _I regret us ever meeting_

 **Nile** _I regret teaching u how to use emojis_

 **Nile** _I regret so many life choices_

 **Quỳnh** _including calling Booker “babe” in group chat? *thinking face*_

 **Andy** _*face with monocle*_

 **Booker** _...How do I remove myself from a group chat?_

 **Andy** _*grinning face with smiling eyes*_

 **Quỳnh** _*winking face with stuck-out tongue*_

 **Nile** _I hate you all *woman facepalming*_

 **Quỳnh** _*face blowing a kiss*_

 **Andy** _*face blowing a kiss*_

 **Booker** _*pleading face*_

 **Nile** _*middle finger*_

*******

“What’s got you looking so constipated?” Joe asks, eyeing Booker’s sandwich hungrily as they sit in the faculty lounge. 

“Besides the inherent discomfort of eating in front of someone fasting?” Booker asks dryly, studiously avoiding eye contact. 

Rolling his eyes, Joe leans back in his chair and places his feet on Booker’s lap. “It’s part of the whole process Booker; being near food is unavoidable and since I can’t seem to avoid you I’ve resigned myself to double my sacrifice.”

“ _You_ came to _me!”_ Booker protests, waving his sandwich in the air for emphasis. 

“And wasn’t that kind of me?” Joe prompts, grinning as Booker’s face turns an alarming shade of red. “Now tell me who pissed in your cheerios.”

Before Booker can respond, both of their phones buzz. Glancing down, Joe smiles at the new whatsapp message. 

**_Nile_ to shit lets start a band** _Thought it’s past time I got us all in one group chat!_

 **Quỳnh** _Woohoo let’s get this party started! Looking forward to seeing you all tonight for iftar!_

 **Nicky** _Wait how do you know about that? I didn’t mention it to you yet_

 **Nicky** _Also why is this group called “shit lets start a band?”_

 **Andy** _...don’t worry about it_

 **Nicky** _In response to which question??_

“Booker,” Joe says pleasantly as he studies the messages pinging across his phone. “Do you all have a group chat Nicky and I don’t know about?” 

Choking on a bite, Booker makes a show of swallowing and taking a sip of his coffee. “What would give you that idea?” He asks evenly, fingers twitching toward his phone giving him away. As Joe launches across the table to swipe the phone, Booker fumbles for it while scooting his chair back and ultimately falls on his ass. 

While Joe laughs at the pile of disgruntled Frenchman, he picks up Booker’s phone still sitting on the table. “Now let’s flip through your recent whatsapp messages, hm? Password still the same I’m guessing?” 

Joe’s grin of victory fades as he finds the chat called “everyone but the idiots” and starts scrolling through. Booker _promisedー_ he releases a sigh of relief when he gets to a message from a few days ago. 

**_Nile_ to everyone but the idiots** _Just spent dinner at Joe’s place and no surprise Nicky’s there. Are they aware of the heart eyes they send to each other???_

 **Booker** _they’re both idiots, we know this thats why we named the chat after them_

 **Quỳnh** _they’ll get their shit together, give them time_

 **Andy** _in the meantime feel free to swing by the bar for a commiserating drink. There’s always the risk that Nicky will be there waxing poetic about Joe’s eyes or hats or kids or art though_

 **Nile** _You just want us there so our bar tab can grow larger_

 **Quỳnh** _And for your lovely company!_

 **Andy** _Guilty as charged_

Scrolling back to the most recent messages, Joe releases a snort. “I would call this an act of betrayal but it seems like you and Nile are experiencing enough karma for your crimes,” he grins, passing the phone back. Adjusting his hat (Nicky talks about them?) Joe kicks Booker from where he’s righted himself. “Thanks for keeping your word asshole,” he smiles softly. 

Shrugging, Booker returns to his sandwich. “Just means I’m gonna win the bet,” he comments. When Joe raises an inquiring brow he smirks. “After dinner the other night Nile wanted to make a bet on when you two will get your shit together. I bet that you’re already together and just keeping it quiet and she didn’t believe me.”

“You’re a horrible person,” Joe deadpans. 

Booker shrugs. “And yet here you are.”

Sticking his tongue out, Joe thumbs open the chat on his phone that’s since blown up.

 ** _Joe_ to shit lets start a band** _Excited to see you all tonight!_

 **Joe** _Well everyone but Booker_

 **Joe** _He’s uninvited_

 **Nile** _What did that dumbass do now?_

 **Booker** _*pleading face*_

 **Nile** _You know those eyes don’t work on me_

 **Booker** _*pleading face*_

**Booker** _*pleading face*_

**Booker** _*pleading face*_

**Joe** _God stop spamming the chat_

 **Joe** _Fine you’re back on the list but only if you hunt down some makroudh_

Joe glances up from his phone as Booker does the same. “See you tonight asshole,” he says with a final parting kick that Booker dodges. 

“I don’t have to come you know!” Booker calls as Joe saunters away.

Turning around, Joe backs out of the room with a grin. “Don’t even _pretend_ you haven’t been craving my couscous,” he quips before giving Booker a lazy salute. 

*******

When Nicky picks Amani and Basim up from school, both children look at each other silently before they start digging through their toy bins. To Nicky’s surprise, they don’t gravitate to their usual go tos but seem to be searching for things laying on the bottom. “I think we should give away two barbies, two cars, andー” Basim pauses to look at his sister. 

Slumping, Amani mumbles, “Two Paw Patrol toys.” 

Nicky watches on with bemusement until the conversations from the morning come back to him. Right, part of Ramadan is giving to charity. “What is this act called again?” he asks them, crouching down as Amani and Basim lay out several toys to decide between.

“Sadaqah,” Amani responds, holding up two nearly identical race cars before raising the one in her right hand to Basim with a questioning glance. When he nods, Amani sets it to the side. 

“Baba says that it’s important to give sadaqah because we are lucky enough to have many things and live in comfort and a lot of people aren’t,” Basim explains, studying two dolls and surprisingly raising the more intact one for Amani’s inspection. That is placed in the giving away pile as well. 

“He says that an important part of Ramadan is generosity.” Amani says the word in the careful way children say words they aren’t used to pronouncing. 

“But Baba also says that it’s important to be generous all year too, which is why we volunteer sometimes!” Basim pipes up. Both children fall silent as they turn to their large collection of Paw Patrol toys with grim expressions. Nicky allows them to debate amongst themselves as he ruminates on this month. While he waited for their school to be done, Nicky did some research. He never really learned about Islam before, let alone Ramadan, so what he read as well as what the kids told him was certainly enlightening. But it just makes him wonder how religious Joe is, whether it affects their relationship in any way Nicky wasn’t aware of. Should he start keeping Halal? Since he eats almost every meal with Joe and the kids, it’s rare for Nicky to eat on his own these days but he still indulges in pork every so often. And he can’t help but think about the six pack of beers in the back of the fridge Joe keeps buying him. 

Not to mention prayer. Has Nicky been keeping Joe from praying and Joe’s been too polite to step away? Fuck. Taking a deep breath and running a hand down his face, Nicky resolves to open the conversation with Joe. Even if the prospect of talking about religion makes his stomach roll. 

To Nicky’s bemusement, once Amani and Basim set aside the toys they’re giving away, they transition to their room in silent agreement and start digging through their drawers. “Thinking about changing your outfits?” he asks. It wouldn’t be like it’s the first time. 

But Basim shakes his head. “We also give our clothes away as sadaqah,” he explains. Nicky’s heart squeezes. Each time he thinks these children can’t be any more remarkable...Joe didn’t even _mention_ giving clothes this morning yet here they are doing so without complaint. 

As a new pile forms, Nicky runs through the list Nile sent him and the groceries he bought today. “Do you have any foods you want to make for iftar?” Nicky asks. “I was thinking about making a couscous dish to start.” 

Both children pause and look at Nicky, biting their lips. Dread pools in his stomach as he can’t help but think he said something very wrong. Was it presumptive of him to assume they would want him to make something? But Booker and Nile will be bringing food, right? Basim turns to Amani silently. Reaching out, Amani takes Basim’s hand. “We have fun cooking with you Nicky Mouse but we always make couscous with Baba,” Amani says in a small voice, eyes trained on her mismatching polka dotted socks. 

Face flushing with embarrassment at his presumption, Nicky kneels down in front of them. “I would never _dream_ of taking such a lovely tradition away from you three,” Nicky says fervently, shoulders relaxing when matching pairs of brown eyes meet his with cautious hope. “We don’t even need to cook anything for iftar if you don’t wish,” he adds, though part of him mourns the idea of not having an opportunity to provide for this family. 

Relief like a cool stream flows over him when tiny arms wrap around Nicky. Good, he hasn’t ruined this. “No Nicky Mouse we want to cook with you!” Amani insists. 

“Just maybe something else,” Basim adds shyly. 

With a determined nod, Nicky adjusts them so Basim and Amani can peer at the article open on his phone screen. “Why don’t you look at these pictures and tell me what looks yummy to you, hm?” 

*******

When Joe gets home he’s greeted with what has become a welcome sight: Amani, Basim, and Nicky in the kitchen. Heart warming at the pile of toys and clothes set aside in the living room, Joe hangs up his bag and carries in his groceries. “Making something for iftar, my beautiful monsters?” he asks. 

“Tunisian baklava,” Nicky responds absently, as he guides Basim to dump the nut mixture onto the phyllo. Joe’s heart clenches. Fuck, he hasn’t made baklava since he was a child standing on his mother’s feet to try to reach the counter better. 

“Can’t wait to try it,” Joe grins. 

As he enters the kitchen Nicky looks up, balking at the bags of groceries Joe is carrying. “Oops,” he winces. When Joe tilts his head in question, Nicky shoots him a sheepish smile. “I probably should’ve checked in with you about what you needed. Kinda went on a shopping spree this morning after consulting your experts over there.” Oh this precious man. 

“Good thing we have the whole month to enjoy all this food then,” Joe laughs. Kissing Amani and Basim’s foreheads Joe glances at Nicky shyly, stomach twisting with nerves. “I know I’m not allowed in my kitchen but mind if I steal your assistants to make something?” 

Joe releases a breath as Nicky turns to smile warmly at him, eyes twinkling. “I suppose I can loan them out.” Relaxing, Joe digs in the back of one of the cupboards to pull out what he needs, releasing a triumphant sound when he finds it. 

“What’s that?” Nicky asks, tilting his head. 

Setting the roundish pan with a funnel-like top and intricate design circling the base on the counter Joe replies, “A tagine. I kept complaining to Monique that couscous doesn’t taste the same without it so she finally bought me one for our anniversary to shut me up,” he explains with a fond smile, removing the top. 

“Did she like to cook?” Joe glances at Nicky, unsure what to expect and shoulders relaxing when Nicky looks back at him with gentle curiosity. They don’t talk about Monique too much; Nicky has subtly asked questions in the past but Joe would shut that line of thinking down in a panic, feeling conflicted with his growing attraction of Nicky and the guilt of moving on. But now that he’s processed with Nile and Patricia, Joe notices that the guilt has faded away. Not completely, but somewhat. And after bringing her up when he was sick, Joe has mentioned Monique a few times since. 

“She and I were pretty similar. Mostly indifferent about cooking, though in certain circumstances we could find pleasure in it.” Smiling softly as he pulls out the necessary ingredients Joe adds, “Ramadan is one of those times for me. It brings back memories of cooking with my mum and grandmother when I was a kid. That’s how I know how to make this dish actually. So now me and the kids have a tradition of doing the same.” 

As Joe looks over to smile at Nicky, the other man’s expression is shadowed. But when Joe frowns and tilts his head Nicky just shoots him a strained smile. 

Glancing down at his kids Joe says, “Why don’t you two start digging through my closet and pulling out what I should give away for sadaqah, okay? I’ll call you when I’m ready for help.” Dropping their current jobs assigned by Nicky, Basim and Amani rush into Joe’s room, eager as always to invade his privacy. He shouldn’t encourage them obviously but he has something more important to worry about. 

Making sure they’re gone, Joe turns to Nicky with an expectant expression, but Nicky just looks pained. “You didn’t have to do that,” he whispers, twisting the towel that was hanging from his shoulder in what Joe has recently understood to be a nervous tic. 

Shrugging carelessly, Joe releases a huff of laughter. “It would take me hours to decide between which hats to give away. This is far more efficient.” Snorting (and Joe’s heart always skips a beat at that sound) Nicky strides forward and wraps his arms around Joe, resting his head against his shoulder. 

“I’m…” 

Another thing Joe has noticed about Nicky is that he’s incredibly conscientious and economic with his words. While Joe uses 20 words to make a point, Nicky can make a stronger one in five. It’s led to several infuriating and enthralling debates. But it also means that it can take time for Nicky to gather his thoughts in the order he wants them to come out. Releasing a hollow laugh, Nicky eventually remarks, “I didn’t enter a kitchen until Andy and Quỳnh entered my life, and it was only after they demanded I found a hobby.” He smiles softly at Joe with a helpless shrug. ”It’s beautiful what you do with Amani and Basim. And the fact that you are passing a tradition down generations fills my heart with so much warmth but it also makes me wonder what it would have been like to be raised by a woman like your mother instead of one like my own.” 

Running his fingers through Nicky’s hair Joe releases a soothing hum, heart aching at how small Nicky sounds, at the way his voice cracks. “For one thing, you would use that towel to chase me out of the kitchen rather than a spoon,” Joe muses, grinning triumphantly when Nicky releases a watery laugh. 

“Maybe if I start doing that you’ll stop trying to taste my sauce before it’s ready.”

“Hmm...no promises.” Stepping back, Joe places his hands on either side of Nicky’s face and studies his eyes, a color he still can’t quite get right despite innumerable attempts. “You deserved a better family than what you got Nicky. Perhaps we can create traditions of our own, huh?” Glancing at the pan on low heat Joe nods towards it. “I’ve never made homemade baklava since I was a kid. This can be our Ramadan tradition. You make baklava with the kids and I make couscous and masfouf.” 

Heart speeding up as he processes the fact that his comment hints at a future with Nicky, at the establishment of _traditions,_ Joe swallows around a dry throat, stomach winding itself into knots. But the subsequent smile that spreads across Nicky’s face is like sun bursting through clouds after a storm. Beautiful. “I would like that.”

Joe grins stupidly at Nicky before biting his lip. “Also I should warn you-“ 

“Babaaa Basim thinks you should give this one away but I disagree!” 

“And Amani thinks you should give _this_ one away but I disagree!” Basim adds. 

Stumbling back and shooting Nicky an apologetic smile, Joe turns to look at his children holding up two red hats that are nearly identical except for a silver line across one. “You know what? Let’s give both away. Now come back to the kitchen little monsters; we’ll go through the rest of my clothes later.” Skipping into the kitchen, Basim and Amani pull up beside Joe and turn to him expectedly. Rubbing his hands together, Joe grins. “Let’s jump into it.” 

While Joe and Basim begin setting up their cooking area, Amani, to Nicky’s confusion, retrieves Joe’s computer. Taking it from her with a “thanks” and a kiss, Joe boots it up and starts a video call. After only a few seconds two faces with Joe’s smile fill the screen, the man with Joe’s curls and the woman possessing Joe’s dancing brown eyes. 

“Ramadan Mubarak Aziza and Azizi!” Amani and Basim shout, tugging their stools over so they can stand on them and better see the people who must be their grandparents. 

“Ramadan Mubarak my little angels,” the woman croons.

“I don’t see any little angels here, only little monsters,” Joe teases, coming up behind his children to tickle them. 

Nicky watches out of the corner of his eye with a small grin while he places the food in the oven as laughter sounds from the computer and Amani and Basim giggle. “Ya rab, what did I do to raise such a troublesome child,” Joe’s mother says with a shake of her head and a smile. 

“Speaking of trouble, sorry for starting so late again Mama and Baba, I know it’s a ridiculous hour for you,” Joe says with a grimace. 

Joe’s father just rolls his eyes while his mother clicks her tongue. “We are not the ones working full time Yusuf, we can afford to have a little less sleep if it means we get to see you and our grandchildren.” 

As Joe and the children begin work on the couscous, Nicky lets the warm voices of this family wash over him while he straightens up the cooking area. When the timer goes off though, Nicky realizes that the oven mitts are unfortunately past Joe. Nicky attempts to duck behind him so as not to disturb the conversation and almost makes it when a surprised gasp sounds from the computer. “Who is that Yusuf?” Joe’s father asks, making Nicky wince. 

Joe shoots Nicky a sheepish smile while his mother leaves the screen. As Nicky slips the baklava from the oven Joe says, “That’s Nicky,” with an affection that would be hard to miss. 

“Nicky, hm? Well let us see this Nicky,” Joe’s mother declares. Joe watches Nicky with wide eyes as Nicky steps into the camera frame with an awkward wave. Where before Joe’s mother’s hair was visible, it is now covered in a blue and white striped hijab.

“Nicky Mouse is our babysitter,” Basim pipes up. 

“Is there a reason your children’s babysitter is still here when you are clearly home?” Joe’s father asks with a raised brow. Joe’s mother adds something in another language that makes Joe sputter. 

“Wallahi Mama!” Joe exclaims before proceeding to talk in rapid...Dutch? Arabic? Nicky honestly has no clue. While Joe’s mother sits back with a satisfied smile and crossed arms, Joe’s father shakes his head with a muttered word that Nicky doesn’t need to translate to know essentially means, “God help me.” 

“Nicky, these are my parents Leila and Mehdi,” Joe says through gritted teeth. 

“You should begin frying the first ingredients, don’t you think Yusuf? I’m sure your Nicky can entertain us while you step away.” Nicky’s stomach twists and his heart flutters at the word “your;” did Joe just tell his parents about him? Joe turns to him with eyes like a cornered rabbit and Nicky would laugh if he wasn’t certain his expression was the same. Leila's suggestion was more order than question though so after a beseeching glance sent to his mother and only a raised brow in response, Joe brings the ingredients he and the children had been working on towards the stove with a grumble. Twisting the towel in his hands as two pairs of far too discerning eyes turn to him as one, Nicky shoots Joe’s parents a smile that is probably closer to a grimace.

“Nicky Mouse is our favorite babysitter of all time and we want him to be our babysitter forever and to move in with us but Baba says that babysitters don’t do that,” Amani pouts, placing her arms on the counter and leaning her chin on them. 

Leila and Mehdi’s gaze sharpen. “Is that so,” Leila hums. 

“And how long have you known our Yusuf?” Mehdi asks, leaning back and crossing his arms. 

Gulping, Nicky counts the months. “Um, since the end of December sir,” he stutters, making Mehdi laugh in an echo of Joe’s own. 

“No need for such honorifics, this isn’t an interrogation.”

“Certainly feels like one,” Joe mutters over the sizzle of the pan. 

“What is your favorite thing about Nicky?” Leila asks, turning back to Amani and Basim. 

Both children turn to Nicky with contemplative expressions before returning to Leila and Mehdi waiting patiently. “He is fun and likes us and cooks really yummy food,” Amani says, making Nicky duck his head.

“And he makes Baba smile lots and chases him out of the kitchen with spoons,” Basim giggles. 

Leila's expression softens to something less guarded while Nicky feels himself blush. “I’ve heard that a towel may be more effective,” Nicky murmurs, smiling shyly. 

When Leila laughs it’s airy and light, a perfect companion to Mehdi’s deep bellow. “Allah has blessed me with a wonderful child who is as mischievous as he is kind.” As Leila and Mehdi launch into childhood stories that Nicky collects like precious gems, Joe protests loudly their inaccuracies, laughing as he does. 

Soon, Joe lowers the heat on the stove and sets a 45 minute timer, carrying his computer to the couch. As he settles on it, Amani and Basim clamber on one leg each so they can hold the computer and update Leila and Mehdi on everything that they’ve done since last they spoke to their grandparents, which, if Nicky is understanding correctly, hasn’t been too long ago. Nicky loiters awkwardly in the kitchen, straightening it up and cleaning the dishes to give the family some privacy. 

“So will we see you in person soon habibi?” Leila eventually asks, making Nicky smile softly. Seems like couscous recipes aren’t the only thing that’s passed from mother to son. 

“Yeah I thought we could make the trip in July and stay for a few weeks,” Joe replies.

“And Nicky Mouse can join us!” Amani exclaims making Nicky balk and Joe choke on his own spit. Nicky stalwartly keeps his back to Joe despite the eyes he feels boring into his back. 

“Nicky may not want to travel all the way to the Netherlands,” Joe says uneasily. “And we won’t need a babysitter there.” 

“Well it sounds like he may be a bit more than just your children’s babysitter,” Leila comments casually, leading to several hissed words on Joe’s end in another language. 

“Well there are a few months before then. I’m sure you can keep us updated on your trip plans,” Mehdi says. A few more words in English and then in another language pass between the family before goodbyes are exchanged and Joe hangs up. 

“I’m so sorry about that Nicolò,” Joe groans a moment later, thumping his head against Nicky’s back. 

Turning around, Nicky draws Joe into a hug. “They seem nice,” he remarks lightly, earning a huff of laughter from Joe. 

“They’re absolute terrors and Amani and Basim certainly take after them.” With a discreet kiss to Nicky’s cheek that makes his heart skip a beat, Joe draws away. “Alright my little monsters,” he calls, “Back to work!” 

*******

Joe is still reeling from the conversation with his parents (astaghfurallah, he can’t hide _anything_ from them) when their guests arrive. While Amani and Basim greet Nile and Booker with typical enthusiasm, Nicky stalks towards Andy and Quỳnh with murder in his eyes. Joe watches him go fondly. Guess he never got answers to his question this afternoon. “Ramadan Mubarak Joe,” Nile calls, juggling bags of food and one excitably clingy child. 

“I brought makroudh as ordered,” Booker announces while he juggles a second excitably clingy child. 

“And I was able to hunt down some chorba,” Nile grins. 

“Nile assigned us to bring some fattoush and juice,” Quỳnh adds, raising an amused Andy’s arm as evidence. 

Joe has to blink back tears at the lengths his friends went in order to find the perfect foods. It’s not like finding Tunisian and Ramadan food is _easy_ in Indiana. “Perfect,” Joe announces once he’s pretty sure his voice won’t sound choked. (It still kinda does.) “I’m finishing up the masfouf right now. I’m thinking we can lay out a buffet in the kitchen and sit in the living room like last time?” 

Once all the food is unpacked and laid out, Joe picks up a date and hands one to everyone else. “It’s customary to break fast with dates. I know none of you fasted but-” Joe shrugs with a rueful grin. “Indulge me.” Taking a bite and groaning at the burst of juice, so sweet after a day of fasting, Joe snags a plate and begins piling it with a little of everything. He knows he needs to ration himself out through the evening but everything just smells so _good._ Picking up his plate and some juice, Joe settles onto the floor. 

Once everyone else has a bit of everything as well, Booker’s plate more couscous than anything else to Joe’s pleasure and amusement, they circle up in a similar formation to Joe’s birthday. 

While they catch each other up on their lives, Joe is content to sit back and listen as he takes slow bites and soaks up the companionship. He bursts out in laughter however when Nicky takes a bite of the couscous and his face turns an alarming shade of red. “I should have warned you,” Joe gasps out through his guffaws. “A lot of this food has a kick. We Tunisians _love_ our harissa and peppers.” Nicky chugs his juice while Joe simply grins and rubs the poor man’s back. He preens when Nicky continues to eat the couscous though, just in smaller bites now. “If it makes you feel better, Booker was worse than you his first time,” Joe says in a stage whisper. “He’s just had three years to build up a tolerance.” 

While Joe ducks to avoid the piece of makroudh thrown at him, Andy releases a moan. “What the fu- fudge is this?” she asks around a piece of baklava.

“Nicky made it,” Joe says with a proud grin as he takes a bite of the thrown makroudh. “It’s called baklava. It’s a super popular pastry.” 

Closing her eyes and scrunching up her face Andy says, “Is that...orange blossom water?”

“What the-?” Joe asks, mouth gaping. 

“Andy has a superpower,” Quỳnh confides in them with a fond smile towards her wife. “She can guess nearly every ingredient in everything she eats.”

“It’s infuriating,” Nicky mutters. 

“Aww, Nicolò’s just grumpy ‘cause he hasn’t stumped her yet.” 

“I bet _one_ of these foods will stump you,” Nicky declares, chin tilted up stubbornly. “You’ve never tried half of them.” 

Pulling out his wallet, Booker waggles his brows. “Care to put your money where your mouth is?” Groaning when he spots an unfamiliar gleam in the eyes of the usually level-headed man, Joe shakes his head. He has a feeling he knows how this is going to end. 

“How,” Nicky whines an hour later as Nile checks the ingredient list on the last piece of food Andy had tried. 

Patting Nicky’s back in consolation, Joe hums, “Perhaps betting against a woman you’ve known close to a decade wasn’t the smartest idea.” He can’t hide his grin when Nicky turns to glare sullenly at him. 

Already far past the kids’ bedtime, Joe stands with a stretch so he can start getting them ready. Exchanging goodbyes and promising to come for future iftars when their schedules permit it, Joe and Nicky’s guests leave. No- technically just Joe’s, right? It’s not like Nicky _actually_ lives here. (Even if Joe dreams of the day when he possibly could.) Despite the excitement of the night, it doesn’t take the kids too long to fall asleep, tuckered out with the events of the day and the late hour. 

Checking his phone, Nicky worries his lip. “I can’t stay too late before my shift starts but I wanted to check in about something.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, Joe leans a shoulder against a wall while Nicky does the same, pressing his back to the door. Studying his feet Nicky murmurs, “We haven’t talked about religion. About how it could affect our relationship. Fuck, I don’t even know if you _pray_ and I’ve been taking you away from it and should I stop eating pork and shit and stop drinking beer? Fuck it was so disrespectful to do that at all and-” before Nicky can spiral further, Joe settles his hands on Nicky’s shoulders. 

“Whoa _breathe_ for me Nico _breathe,”_ Joe soothes. It’s only when Nicky processes those words that he realises he was talking through gasping breaths. Sliding down the door, Nicky places his forehead on his knees, squeezing his eyes shut and fighting to control his breathing. Solid hands rub along the arms he’s wrapped tightly around his legs while Joe keeps a steady torrent of words flowing between them. The tatters of his mind flutter in response until they wrap around Joe’s words and allow them to pull Nicky back to himself. 

When he’s more in control, he processes that his face is wet, that his shoulders still shudder from sobs. “That’s it Nicky just listen to my voice, just feel my hands, yes? It’s just you and me. I got you,” Joe murmurs. 

Shuffling closer to Joe, Nicky allows himself to be drawn into an embrace until he’s curled into Joe’s lap like a child. Nosing along Joe’s neck in search of that hint of spice and citrus that’s uniquely him, Nicky finds himself relaxing. Licking his lips he finally rasps, “Sorry.” 

“I believe you once told me something about apologizing when there was no need to,” Joe hums, and Nicky sinks further against Joe’s chest, soaking up the vibrations that send warmth through his body. Gentle fingers card through Nicky’s hair as he recalls that scene in the kitchen that seems so long ago. Have they truly only known each other since December? “I’m sorry that I surprised you with Ramadan. It honestly slipped my mind that it was coming up but I know that religion is a sore subject.” 

“Understatement,” Nicky whispers, before shaking his head. “No, nothing about today was triggering except-” Nicky cuts himself off to take a shaky breath. “I want to respect your religion and beliefs and practices and fear I haven’t.” 

“And we know what happened last time you didn’t ‘respect’ someone’s religion and beliefs,” Joe says darkly. 

Nicky stiffens. He hadn’t even made that connection. “You’re nothing like them Yusuf,” Nicky protests, finally raising his head so Joe can see the sincerity in his eyes. 

Rubbing a thumb across Nicky’s cheek and brushing away the remnants of tears as he does, Joe leans forward to kiss his forehead. “I know ya amar, but that doesn’t keep it from being triggering.” Furrowing his brow at the unfamiliar words, Nicky cocks his head. Instead of explaining, Joe maneuvers the two of them so Nicky’s back is to Joe’s chest and Joe can hook his chin over his shoulder. “I’m not religious in the traditional sense,” Joe muses. “I don’t pray, though I do believe in Allah. Just not all of his commandments,” he adds with a rueful smile. “I mostly keep halal because I was raised to but also for its health benefits. Similar to Ramadan, but for that I also appreciate the charity aspect and the emphasis on reflection and working to better yourself.” 

Joe shrugs. “Keeping halal and observing Ramadan makes me feel closer to my family, my ancestors, to Allah. I do it for me and my reasons, not because the Quran commands it.” Flipping one of Nicky’s hands over and tracing idle designs over it, Joe murmurs, “Interfaith relationships are more and more common today Nicky. I only ever want you to do things for _you,_ not out of a sense of a religious obligation, especially for a religion you don’t even follow.” 

Turning in Joe’s arms, Nicky clasps their hands, studying the differences in finger length and the way they fit like puzzle pieces finding their match. “Does it bother you? That I don’t know if I believe in god?” Nicky asks, eyes trained on where they’re linked. 

“I don’t think anything about you could bother me,” Joe says with a conviction that is humbling. “Though your fashion sense at times pains me,” Joe adds after a beat, playful grin dancing across his lips. 

Snorting, Nicky shoves at Joe’s shoulder. “We can’t all be walking straight out of GQ,” Nicky complains, relishing Joe’s full-belied laugh and the way his arms tighten around him. When his reminder alarm to leave goes off, a necessity with how easily time slips away in Joe’s company, Nicky groans and thuds his head against Joe’s chest. “I don’t wanna go,” he mumbles petulantly, melting when a finger tilts Nicky’s head up so Joe can capture his lips. 

“I’ve only known Andy and Quỳnh for a short period of time but the prospect of angering them fills me with terror,” Joe says wryly, smile brushing across Nicky’s lips. 

Huffing out a breath of laughter, Nicky draws Joe into another lazy kiss before pulling away. “Don’t let them fool you. They might act like tigers but they’re soft like kittens.” 

“Kittens are savage!” Joe protests, gesturing to where Cow is sprawled across the couch asleep. Rolling his eyes, Nicky stands, reaching down to pull Joe up as well. “So what you’re saying is if I tell Andy and Quỳnh you called them kittens, I won’t find you horribly maimed later?” Joe asks innocently, eyes twinkling. 

Nicky glowers at him, though he can’t keep his lips from twitching. “I wouldn’t risk it.” 

Chuckling, Joe snags Nicky’s bag and light jacket before handing them to him and opening the door. “Until next time,” Joe says with an exaggerated bow, picking Nicky’s hand up to kiss it like someone out of Victorian times. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Nicky scoffs as he feels himself blush. 

Winking from where he’s still bowed, Joe sings, “A ridiculous man you looooove.” Feeling his blush deepening, Nicky grumbles to himself before snagging Joe’s shirt and claiming his lips in an attempt to shut him up. 

When his snoozed alarm goes off again, Nicky groans before stepping back and through the door. “See you tomorrow Yusuf,” he grins. 

Covering his heart with his hands Joe responds dramatically, “I’ll be counting the seconds.” 

Rolling his eyes with a grin as he walks away, Nicky can’t help whispering to himself, “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to the multiple comments in Chapter 4 that inspired me to start some group chats among these idiots. (Yes, Andy and Quỳnh know they’re together and Booker knows but they don’t know each other knows And if you think that Nile hasn't been banging her head against her easel waiting for these idiots to just TELL her they're together I have some news for you. But does she know that everyone else knows? Nooope because I delight in chaos and comedies of error!) 
> 
> Since I was dumb and didn’t choose Joe’s birthday before checking when Ramadan is this year, we’re going to use 2019’s start and end date (May 6-June 4) so my timeline isn’t completely out of wack. Also this goes without saying but Joe’s beliefs here are not representative of the wider community of those who practice Islam. Religion is complex and complicated and means something different for everyone. 
> 
> **Glossary:**  
>  _Sadaqah:_ Charity (Side note: The more I learn about Islam, the more I’m fascinated by the similarities between it and Judaism. Down to the words! “Sadaqah” sounds nearly _identical_ to “tzedakah” and they mean the same thing. Go multiculturalism!)  
>  _Ramadan Mubarak_ means blessed Ramadan and is the typical greeting during Ramadan  
>  _Ya rab_ means "oh God" and can used when asking for encouragement or strength  
>  _Wallahi_ literally means "and God" but as an expression is similar to "seriously/honestly??"  
>  _Astaghfurallah_ means to ask for God's forgiveness but is used as an expression to express exasperation  
>  _Ya amar_ means my moon
> 
> As always please correct me if anything is wrong! Thank you for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe and Nicky make some important steps. They also continue to be surrounded by assholes, but this isn't a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I noticed a huge drop in comments last chapter and I’m super curious whether the update got messed up or whether people just...did not like it for some reason. I would love to know if it was the latter so if you have some constructive feedback feel free to comment on that chapter so I can take it into consideration for the future. Thank you! 
> 
> And Merry Christmas to all who celebrate! To those of you who find this holiday not a happy one, I hope this fic can act like a warm hug <3

Ramadan passes in a whirlwind of food, laughter, and sneaked kisses. As the month passes however, Joe finds it harder and harder not to kiss Nicky in front of Amani and Basim or their friends. He doesn’t feel the urge often. Only when Nicky cooks or reads or writes or laughs or smiles or says something witty or looks at Joe or plays with the kids or-

Yeah, Joe should stop fooling himself. 

It all comes to a head the day before Eid, when Joe is stopped in his doorway by the sight that greets him. A conversation that occurred near the start of Ramadan comes back to him as he stares at the tableau. Joe hadn’t seen Nicky so nervous before that day. “I know you and Amani have a routine to do her hair together, but when you were sick she had asked me to do it. I don’t want to step on your toes or take such a lovely activity away from you so I wanted to check in to see if you were comfortable with me helping before I start watching innumerable tutorial videos,” Nicky said with a wry smile as he flipped the pages in his book back and forth nervously. 

Joe gave Nicky’s question the thought it was due. Doing Amani’s hair was always a special time for his family, a routine Joe never imagined doing himself that he's since fallen in love with. He tried to imagine it: Nicky in his place, and found the image caused a certain kind of warmth to spread through his chest. “Not every time,” Joe said slowly, unwilling to part from his bonding time with his daughter entirely. Smiling he added, “But yes, you can certainly do it if you want.” 

Since that conversation Nicky hasn't made a move to suggest it again and Joe has never come home with Amani’s hairstyle changed. Today though, Nicky is on the ground with Amani between his legs and, with eyebrows furrowed, is braiding her hair. But that’s not the only thing that has Joe's breath caught in his throat. As he does so Basim and Amani are speaking to him in what sounds like Italian. Joe took some courses in Secondary but is incredibly rusty so he only catches every third word or so. Meanwhile his children seem to be speaking flawlessly. 

They say something to Nicky though that makes him pause the braid he’s on and scrunch up his face. _”I like to cooking and he read?”_ he tries, making Joe’s heart skip a beat. It was messy and imperfect and incredibly grammatically incorrect but...Nicky was speaking _Arabic._ While the children giggle and Nicky shakes his head with a self-deprecating smile, Joe finds himself utterly consumed with...with….

His limbs move without his permission as he strides across the room, tilts Nicky’s chin up, and kisses him. Nicky releases a surprised noise before sinking into the kiss, arms releasing Amani’s braid he had been working on to twine them around Joe’s neck. A thrill Joe hasn’t felt since he was a boy kissing his first crush surges through him and he starts to get lost in the kiss before he feels a tug on his shirt. “Where’s _our_ kiss?” Amani complains from where her head is crushed to Joe’s chest. Drawing away with a huff of laughter and a flush of embarrassment, Joe plants a sloppy kiss on Amani’s cheek, chuckling at her look of disgust. 

When he turns to Basim to do the same, his son is looking at him contemplatively. “You did the kiss that Uncle and Auntie and Andy and Quỳnh do,” he points out, making Joe’s stomach twist with nerves. 

Sinking onto the ground and pulling his son into his lap, Joe looks between Amani and Basim who are both watching him with curious eyes. When he flicks his gaze up to Nicky, he sees a reflection of his apprehension. Joe starts fiddling with his necklace as he takes a steady breath to explain. 

Before he can get a word out though, Amani pipes up, “Are you and Nicky Mouse dating?” 

Clicking his mouth shut, Joe looks helplessly at Nicky who only shrugs, waiting for Joe to lead. Scrubbing his face Joe says, “Yes?” 

“But you haven’t gone on a date yet,” Basim observes. “Uncle Booker says people who date have to go ‘out on the town.’” _One day I’m gonna kill you Booker,_ he growls to himself. 

“Yes, they do...but dating can look different to different people. When we put you to bed, sometimes Nicky and I will sit on the couch with tea and talk. That can be a date,” Joe explains desperately. 

Both children think about this for a moment before nodding. “Kay,” Basim shrugs. 

“Does this mean Nicky Mouse is moving in?” Amani asks. 

Groaning, Joe buries his face in his hands. “We’re not quite there yet habibti,” he mumbles, and without looking up Joe can sense the pouts being shot his way. Straightening, Joe chances a look at Nicky and finds him beaming. His heart does that dumb thing it seems to always do when Nicky does nearly anything, especially smile. “So how are our language lessons coming?” he asks Nicky with a grin. 

Shaking his head, Nicky returns to Amani’s hair. “Your cuccioli are naturals of course. Soon they’ll be better at speaking Italian than I am,” he says with a proud smile. 

“Then maybe they can start teaching me,” Joe says offhandedly as he reaches for one of the Paw Patrol action figures so he can play with Basim. Flicking his gaze towards Nicky, Joe feels himself blush at the way the man stares at him with affection burning in his eyes. “And how are _your_ lessons coming Nicolò?” Joe asks, biting his lip to keep from grinning. 

“I think you know exactly how they’re going, caro,” Nicky says with amused exasperation. 

“You’ll get there,” Joe responds, shooting him an encouraging smile as he zooms around the floor and follows Basim’s excitable directions. 

“With these teachers? I have no doubt.” 

*******

Nicky feels like he’s walking on air. When Joe froze in the doorway yesterday, Nicky was greeted with what has at this point become a familiar expression on his face. But instead of shooting Nicky a strained smile like usual, Joe beelined straight towards him and _kissed Nicky on the mouth._ _In front of Basim and Amani._ It’s been nearly two months since their first kiss, and Nicky was willing to wait much longer for this moment so he’s still in some shock. He was afraid the next day Joe would have regrets but instead when Joe left for work and gave Amani and Basim their customary goodbye kisses, he paused in front of Nicky and drew him into a soft kiss before whispering goodbye. Nicky was too dazed to respond and was only tugged from his reverie by Amani and Basim literally pulling him to their room to help them pick out an outfit. 

Tonight will probably be different though. Throughout Ramadan it was rare for Joe, Amani, and Basim to have iftar alone, though it happened occasionally if there were multiple conflicts. Everyone marked Eid al-Fitr on their calendars though so they’ll be arriving in a few hours. 

When Joe comes home with a grin and a particular glint in his eye holding something behind his back, Nicky is on high alert. Leila wasn’t lying when she called Joe mischievous. “I have a surprise for you my little monsters and for you Nicolò,” Joe sing-songs. 

Wiping his hands on a towel and narrowing his eyes, Nicky leans against the counter. “Oh?” 

Amani and Basim are already crowding Joe to see what their surprise is and Joe, laughing, settles on the ground and reveals the packages he was holding. Handing one to Amani and Basim, he waves the other at Nicky. “Won’t you take your gift Nico?” Joe calls. 

Incredibly distrustful of that tone, Nicky approaches the package warily. While Joe helps Amani and Basim with their package, Nicky opens his only to freeze, mirth and exasperation flowing over him in equal parts. As he raises the apron and reads what it says, he turns to Joe who is watching Nicky with poorly disguised delight. “You’re a horrible person,” he deadpans. 

“A horrible person you loooove,” Joe croons, kissing Nicky’s dramatic frown off his face. Giddy at hearing that word and being able to kiss Joe in front of Amani and Basim, Nicky finds himself smiling through the kiss. 

But soon little hands tug on his clothes. “What does mine say?” Basim asks. Turning, Nicky melts at the sight of Basim and Amani holding tiny aprons of their own. When he reads what’s on them, he laughs. 

“It’s a matching set,” Joe explains, revealing a fourth apron. While the large apron says “I’m the boss,” Amani and Basim’s say “I’m the _real_ boss.” 

When Nicky reads them out to Basim and Amani, both children beam and hug Joe. “Thank you Baba!” Basim hums. 

“What does yours say Nicky Mouse?” Amani asks. 

Glaring at Joe whose beautiful eyes twinkle with mirth Nicky grits out, “I love big books and I cannot lie.”

Nodding solemnly Joe explains, “I thought Nicky would like that one because we all know how much he likes books, right?” While Amani and Basim nod, Nicky continues to glare at Joe and studiously fight how much he wants to smile. 

As Joe leans forward and draws Nicky into a kiss, the door slams open and Nile shouts, “Eid mubarak lords and _holy shit!”_ While Joe flails and falls backwards, Nicky has to fight between laughter and utter mortification, especially when he looks up and sees Nile’s expression that is entirely too gleeful. “Pay up Booker!” she crows. “I said they’d get their shiiii- stuff together before summer break!” 

While Nicky racks his brain wondering why she’s here so early, Booker saunters in with a grin like the cat who got the canary and raises a brow at a now glaring and blushing Joe. “And how long have you actually been together may I ask?” he drawls. 

Andy and Quỳnh stroll through the door with their arms around each other. “Oh, since Joe’s birthday,” Andy remarks casually, making Booker balk and Nicky facepalm. 

“Wait how do you know that?” Booker asks, earning a raised brow from Andy. 

As their asshole friends begin fighting over who knew when and how, Nicky turns to Joe who is looking like a cornered animal. “Hey hey _breathe_ amore mio,” Nicky soothes, rubbing Joe’s back. Biting his lip, he releases a rueful laugh. “Andy and Quỳnh were able to read it on my face the day after our first kiss so I swore them to secrecy.” 

“That must’ve been hard to do,” Joe says faintly. He’s about to turn to Nicky when Joe pales, eyes widening. 

A woman with tightly wound braids, a red blouse, black trousers, and a dog walks in, taking in the scene with a sharp gaze. “Gramma!” the kids shout, abandoning their aprons to barrel into her. 

“Hello my precious ones,” Patricia croons. And now Nicky is frozen like a cornered animal too. Joe told Nicky about his visit to Patricia’s so he knows that she is alright with him and Joe seeing each other. In _theory._ But it’s one thing to say you’re okay with the widow of your daughter moving on and quite another witnessing it. “Now what’s all this chaos going on,” Patricia tsks, crouching down to let her dog off the leash. Nicky watches with bemusement as he bounds straight to Cow who stretches from her spot on the couch. While the dog snuffles at her, Cow winds around his legs before sprawling down on the floor, the dog curling around her not soon after. So clearly this isn’t their first meeting, Nicky thinks to himself with a fond grin. 

But his amusement is quickly washed away at the renewed panic that _Monique’s mother_ is here. And from the looks of it, Joe isn’t faring any better. “Patricia,” Joe squeaks. “Glad you could make it.” 

Placing down her bags, Patricia props her hands on her hips and studies Nicky. He swallows, feeling like a fly under a microscope. “You must be Nicky,” she remarks vaguely. At Nicky’s silent nod her eyes narrow. “I heard you cook.” When Nicky can only nod again she raises her brows. “Well?” She nods towards the kitchen. “Go on then. My Yusuf won’t be dating anyone with subpar cooking skills.” 

Reeling at her casual acceptance, at the playful glint in her eyes, Nicky stumbles to his feet, still clutching the ridiculous apron. Setting it to the side because there’s no _way_ Patricia’s first impression of him will be with him wearing it, Nicky picks up where he left off with the chorba. Joe ranted about how the place they tried going to kept getting the spices wrong so Nicky is determined to get it right for him. “Hmm, you can certainly handle a knife,” Patricia muses after a moment. Nicky just gulps. He has never felt so much pressure while cooking before, Patricia’s assessing gaze burning a hole in his back. 

As he adds the vegetables and brings it to boil, Nicky turns to work on the flour mixture for the kahk. “You bake too,” she says with approval. While Nicky nods, Patricia draws up beside him. “Has he told you that he loves you yet?” she asks in his ear, causing Nicky to fumble his measurements. While he swears in Italian under his breath, Patricia releases a low laugh. “Apologies. I should know not to distract the chef.” Moving through the kitchen in a way that speaks to years of familiarity, Patricia begins pulling out ingredients and materials. “I promised Yusuf I would make some homemade fattoush,” she explains at Nicky’s inquiring glance. 

“To answer your question, he hasn’t said those words but I know that he does. He tells me with every glance and every gesture. In every drawing and every line of poetry,” he murmurs, keeping his head bowed as he works to melt the ghee. 

Patricia releases a huff of laughter. “That sounds like Yusuf.” 

"And you?" she asks after a long moment of luring Nicky into a false sense of complacency. "Have you told him?" 

Nicky pauses as he pours the flour mixture into the pot. Turning to her he says, "I told him the night of his birthday but to be honest I think I've loved him since the day we met." Swallowing, Nicky runs a hand through his hair. "At first I thought it was a simple crush because, well, _look_ at him," he huffs out before shaking his head. "But then I saw him with Amani and Basim and I saw him cry and I saw him trying _so hard_ and I saw the passion in his eyes for his kids and his job and how _good_ he is and..." Nicky trails off. "Before I knew it I was hopelessly in love." 

Patricia studies him with kind eyes and a soft smile before nodding. "You have good taste." As she turns to search through the pantry, Patricia pauses at the apron Nicky left crumpled to the side and laughs heartily. “Is this yours Nicky?” she asks, raising it. 

Blushing, Nicky focuses on stirring the chorba. “Joe bought it for me,” he mumbles, yelping when it’s thrown at his head. 

“Well go on then. We don’t want that stylish grey shirt to be ruined do we?”

Looking down at his shirt and smiling wryly, Nicky turns to slip on the apron. “Joe often bemoans my fashion sense,” he comments with a fond smile. 

With the ice officially broken, Nicky starts to relax, finding Patricia’s wit as sharp as Nile’s, especially when telling tales about Joe. At one point Joe tries to intervene but Patricia shoots him one glance and he retreats with his tail between his legs. For the most part, they keep to their work stations, chatting amiably as they do. At one point however, Patricia moves toward him to correct his cutting technique. As Nicky stares at her steady hands and lets the gentle instructions wash over him, he feels a lump form in his throat. He follows her directions in a daze before setting aside his materials. Excusing himself, Nicky flees into Amani and Basim’s room. 

Unsurprisingly, Joe finds him not a few minutes later and crouches in front of where Nicky has curled himself into a ball. “Nicolò?” Joe whispers. Nicky draws his shoulders up higher, burying his head further into his knees. Releasing a sorrowful hum, Joe settles beside Nicky so only their shoulders touch. Waiting for Nicky to make a move. Immediately, Nicky tilts himself so he falls into Joe’s waiting arms. They remain like that for a long moment, Joe running soothing fingers through Nicky’s hair while Nicky wrestles his mind and heart into order. “Is that what it’s like?” he whispers eventually. “To have-” Nicky buries his face further into Joe’s chest. 

“Oh Nico,” Joe sighs, pressing a kiss to Nicky’s cheek and tucking his nose against his neck. “Yes, that’s exactly what it’s like.” 

“It’s supposed to be that easy?” he asks brokenly. When Joe nods in assent, Nicky finally allows a sob to leak out. Then another. And another. Joe holds him intact as the broken pieces Nicky has tried to glue together threaten to tear apart. 

They remain there for an indefinite period of time, Nicky mourning what he could have had, mourning what Patricia lost, just...mourning. And then his tears continue to flow when Nicky realizes that this is his life now. To have a man who holds him through his pain and friends loyal to a fault and a woman who doesn’t even know him but approves of him nonetheless.

When his sobs fade into nothing more than soft gasps, Nicky reluctantly draws away, playing with one of Joe’s hands so he can study how their fingers lock together so seamlessly. “We should probably head back,” he whispers. “They’ll be wondering where we are.” 

“They’re probably placing bets about whether we’re having sex,” Joe snorts, bringing their linked limbs to his lips so he can kiss the back of Nicky’s hand.

Nicky releases a scandalized gasp as his cheeks blush at the idea. “In your children’s room?! They don’t think we would, do they?” 

Chuckling, Joe presses a soft kiss to Nicky’s lips which Nicky immediately melts into. “You ready to head back?” Taking a shaky breath and drying his eyes, Nicky presses his forehead to Joe before nodding. 

Fortunately, the rest of the evening is uneventful. Patricia doesn’t seem to take Nicky’s abrupt disappearance personally, and no one comments on his slightly puffy eyes. They gorge themselves on too much food while Joe lists the various meals he’s going to make for lunch with the relish of someone who has been thinking about it for a month. As Nicky listens, he takes note of Joe’s wish list so he can make sure to pack some on the inevitable days Joe forgets to make lunch. His ridiculous man.

*******

Joe groans as he checks by his desk only to remember that he forgot to pack a lunch. Again. You would think after a month of fasting he would remember but Nicky was very distracting this morning with his smile and...honestly the smile alone was enough of a distraction. Joe thumbs open his phone to order some delivery when the phone in his classroom rings. Picking it up, Joe frowns with confusion when the receptionist Molly tells him there’s someone here for him. 

Walking through the halls and nodding to students as they pass by on their way to lunch, Joe stops in his tracks. Nicky’s here. Nicky’s here chatting amiably with Molly and clutching a brown paper bag. “Hi,” Joe says, walking forward with a smile that’s threatening to take over his entire face. 

When Nicky looks up and grins at him, Joe’s smile immediately turns into a beam. “You forgot your lunch,” he says, waving the bag in his hand. 

“You are a _life_ saver babe,” Joe moans, surprising himself with the pet name while Nicky turns an adorable shade of pink. 

“Mr. A did you just call that guy _babe?!”_

Stiffening, Joe turns to look at where Alyssa, Dom, and Yazmyn, three of his students in his senior elective, stand in the doorway, clearly coming back from going off campus for lunch. All three are wearing expressions of absolute delight as they glance between him and Nicky. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stutters out, eyes widened with panic. 

Nicky’s lips twitch out of the corner of his eye before he gulps when all three seniors zero in on him. “Who are you?” Yazmyn asks, tucking a curl behind her ear to study him closer. 

“My name is Nicky,” he responds, sounding far too put together. 

“How do you know Mr. A?” Alyssa demands, popping a piece of gum and crossing her arms around her leather jacket. 

Glancing at Joe Nicky says, “I babysit his kids.” This seems to only make the three students more suspicious. 

Dom narrows their eyes. “You seem a bit too old to be a babysitter,” they comment. 

“Dom!” Joe yelps, rubbing his face tiredly. He loves these three students with all his heart ever since they walked into the Gender and Sexuality Alliance as baby freshmen scared of what they were. Unfortunately, the drawback of knowing and being mentored by Joe for the past four years means that they see right through a lot of his bullshit. “Don’t you three want to eat your lunch?” he tries desperately. As one, all three turn to the bench that is set aside in a corner of the entranceway and settle down on it, pulling out their food as they do. Now Nicky is fighting to keep from grinning, the asshole. 

Gritting his teeth, Joe stalks over to the three smug seniors. “Okay. What do I have to do to get you to keep this quiet?” he hisses, crossing his arms with a scowl. 

“You give us all the deets,” Yazmyn demands with a smirk. “How you met, how long you’ve been together. All the gossip.” 

Throwing his head back with a groan Joe turns to her beseechingly. “You know it’s rude to pry into a teacher’s personal life, right?” 

“I think considering how many times you’ve brought Amani and Basim to GSA and the shit Mr. Book has told us, that line between personal and professional for you is pretty non-existent,” Alyssa comments with another pop of gum. 

“Language,” he says absently. “And you know he hates you calling him that.” 

“Then you shouldn’t have called him by his nickname when you didn’t know who could be listening,” Yazmyn points out. 

“I didn’t know you were listening because you were making out with Sabrina Owens in the janitor’s closet,” Joe grumbles. Sighing, he releases a helpless growl. “Fine. Stay after GSA tomorrow and I’ll give you the details.” 

“And you’ll bring Nicky,” Dom adds, their voice loud enough to carry to where Nicky is still leaning against the receptionist's desk and pretending not to listen. Gritting his teeth, Joe lets that request be met with silence. Checking his watch Joe points at each of them individually. “You are all menaces of absolute chaos.” 

“Takes one to know one,” Yazmyn says blithely before standing up and straightening her floral dress that is seriously testing the dress code. 

“See ya tomorrow afternoon Nicky!” Alyssa salutes while Yazmyn flutters her fingers and Dom shoots him a pleased grin. 

Turning away from his asshole students, Joe drags his feet back to Nicky and thumps his head on his shoulder. “So I hear I’ll be coming to the GSA?” Nicky asks, voice tinged with amusement as he runs his fingers through Joe’s hair. 

“Sometimes I regret going into teaching,” Joe mumbles in response. 

*******

Nicky shouldn’t be nervous. He _knows_ he shouldn’t be nervous and there’s no need to be. That doesn’t stop him from checking his reflection in the mirror for the fourth time. When he stopped at Joe’s school in a stained shirt and sweatpants yesterday, Nicky wasn’t expecting to do more than drop off his lunch and slip out. But the receptionist looked at him with a curious gleam in her eyes and asked him to wait and then Joe called him _babe_ and then three of Joe’s students ambushed them and now Nicky is meeting them officially to possibly be interrogated?? 

Basim and Amani meanwhile are vibrating out of their skin with excitement. Apparently this isn’t the first time they’ve got to go to Joe’s school and spend time with the students. Since Joe is trying not to let the entire school know about his personal life overnight, he asked Nicky to arrive once GSA ends though. Checking the time, Nicky decides that if he waits in this apartment any longer he may run away in the other direction. Once he helps the kids put their shoes on, Nicky closes the door and walks them to Joe’s school. As they walk Amani and Basim chatter about the last time they got to go to one of Joe’s after school clubs, though this one was for art. Apparently it’s a club for students of all skill ranges to have space to do their art, receive guidance from Joe if they’d like it, mentor each other, listen to music, and have a place of solace. Nicky is half-tempted to find an excuse to stop by just so he can witness Joe in his element. 

Unfortunately, with Amani and Basim’s excitement and Nicky’s nerves, they arrive a few minutes early. Once they’re directed to Joe’s classroom, Nicky convinces Amani and Basim to wait in the hall. With the door open though, Nicky has a direct line of sight to where Joe is inexplicably standing on a chair, some pop song playing through speakers while excited chatters and movement flow through the room. “Alright people we gotta clean up! We made some good progress and we should definitely be ready for the parade at this rate,” Joe announces after a minute. 

Furrowing his brow in confusion (what parade?) Nicky strolls down the hallway so he can pretend to study art displayed on the walls while the students begin to file out of the room with calls of goodbyes. When he hears Joe’s delighted laughter and Basim and Amani’s happy commentary a few moments later, Nicky takes a breath and turns around before heading inside the room. “There’s the man of the hour!” Alyssa calls from where she’s sitting backwards in a chair, elbows dangling over the back and legs sprawled out. 

“Thought you were gonna chicken out,” Yazmyn comments as she kicks her feet back and forth while sitting on a desk. 

“Eh, I had faith in him,” Dom says, green eyes peering under a flop of hair as they hook a foot around a chair and place their feet on it. Do none of these students know how to sit normally? When he turns to where Joe is sitting on his desk with his feet planted on his chair, Nicky huffs out a breath of laughter. Well that may explain it. 

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Nicky surveys the room. Though the desks and chairs look several decades too old, they’re placed in a circle rather than the typical rows. The walls are nearly completely covered with posters of various writers and quotes while an overloaded bookshelf sags in the back. A whiteboard has a slideshow projected on it that says in large lettering PRIDE PARADE PREP PARTY while underneath it written in a hand Nicky doesn't recognize it says "AKA PPPP" and under _that_ in a _different_ hand, "too many acronyms. Needs workshopping." Nicky hums to himself as a smile plays on his lips. So _that's_ what Joe was referring to when he mentioned a parade. Turning to the man in question Nicky grins as he fully takes in the appearance he wasn't able to appreciate this morning. Wearing a rainbow hat and a shirt that spells HUMAN in different flag colours as he sits under a giant rainbow peace flag, he's a walking advertisement for the GSA. Nicky raises his eyebrows when he spots the state of the desk Joe is sprawled upon though. “I see your organization ability carries over into your work life,” Nicky remarks mildly, earning snorts from the students behind him and an exaggerated pout from Joe. 

“Nico, don’t undermine me in front of my students!” he protests. 

Nicky’s lips twitch. “From the conversation you had with them yesterday, I think it’s a bit too little too late.” 

“Oh I _like_ him Mr. A!” Yazmyn exclaims. Pulling out a chair from a desk on literally its last legs, Nicky sits in it, watching fondly as Basim and Amani come out from behind Joe’s desk with some toys. Seems like Joe is always prepared. 

“Remember little monsters, on desks not the floor!” Joe calls. To Nicky’s surprise, Amani climbs into Alyssa’s lap while Basim sits on Dom’s before they place their toys on the desks. 

“And how have you been munchkin?” Dom asks with a grin. 

“Do you like Nicky? We like Nicky!” Basim says in response. As Dom chuckles, they shoot Nicky an amused glance. 

“How long have you known Nicky, chiquito?” Yazmyn asks Basim. While Basim scrunches his face in an attempt to remember, Amani pipes up, “Since December! He’s our babysitter but now he’s also dating Baba.”

“So we understand,” Alyssa hums, tilting her head and watching Nicky like a predator. Nicky shifts in his seat, wincing at how it creaks.

“Alright, one question each and then I expect you to keep your word,” Joe declares, crossing his arms. 

“When did you first kiss?” Yazmyn asks right out of the gate. Groaning, Joe buries his face in his hands. “You’re the worst. This is so unprofessional.” 

“We’re waaaiiitiiiiing,” Alyssa sings. 

Taking mercy on Joe Nicky says, “His birthday.” 

“What do you like about Mr. A?” Dom asks, studying Nicky. With all the attention on him again, Nicky gulps. 

Turning to where Joe is playing idly with a pen, he can’t help smiling, just the sight of the man relaxing him. “He’s kind. An incredible artist and so good with his kids. He can enthrall you even if he’s just naming ingredients off a label and he’s steady like a lighthouse in a storm.” Nicky huffs out a breath of laughter as he takes in the state of Joe’s desk again. “And he’s a bit of a disaster but the kind you can’t help loving.” At this point Joe has looked up from where he was awkwardly doodling and his gaze burns through Nicky’s chest. _He's beautiful,_ Nicky doesn't add.

He's pulled out of his reverie however when an impressive whistle sounds beside him. “I don’t know where you found him Mr. A but _lock. Him. Down!”_ Alyssa calls. As Nicky ducks his head to hide his blush, she leans forward, a greedy glint in her eye. “Where did you go on your first date?” 

At this Nicky falters and turns to Joe for support. “Um...the living room?” 

All three students exchange confused glances. “Second date?” 

“Still, uh, the living room,” Joe says with a sheepish shrug. 

“Sixth date?” When Joe and Nicky look at them blankly the seniors groan. “You’re such a disaster bi Mr. A,” Yazmyn says with a shake of her head, hopping down from the desk and slinging her backpack on. Disaster bi? Well, Joe is a bit of a disaster so Nicky supposes that makes sense?

Alyssa and Dom follow suit and after hugging Amani and Basim, all three give Joe an unimpressed look. “Seriously Mr. A,” Alyssa deadpans, without elaborating. 

As the students saunter out, Nicky blinks after them dumbly. “I feel...slightly judged right now?” he says with uncertainty. 

“Welcome to education,” Joe sighs before turning to Nicky with a bite of his lip. “I know I should take you on a date but-”

Nicky smiles softly at Joe. “I happen to like our living room dates,” he says archly, walking up to Joe to kiss him. Winding his arms around Nicky’s neck, Joe returns the kiss gently before drawing away. Looking at his desk with a pained expression, Nicky comments, “I think we need to order in for dinner tonight though because we’re not leaving until I can see your desk.”

*******

**Booker** _Why did one of ur students tell me that I need to babysit?_

Joe blinks down at his phone before scowling. 

**Joe** _don’t worry about it_

 **Booker** _the exact words were actually “mr. book, u gotta take amani and basim so mr. a can take that cute italian on a date”_

 **Booker** _still pissed at you about that nickname btw_

Joe groans, thumping his head on the papers he was grading. 

**Booker** _how’s friday night sound? The kids can have some 1:1 time with the coolest uncle and aunt in the world_

Joe stares at the message, worrying his lip for so long that his phone goes dark. A minute later, it lights up again.

 ** _Nile_ to the three musketeers** _Booker told me that you haven’t taken Nicky on a date yet???_

 **Nile** _we'll be there friday_

 **Nile** _this isnt up for debate_

 **Nile** _separation is HEALTHY Joe u know this_

Fuck, he knows she's right. It's just...hard. It's one thing to be away from the kids for his job but quite another to be away for a _date._ But Nicky deserves to be treated and Joe isn't abandoning Amani and Basim if it's just a date, right? And if the person he is taking already loves them, right? Right. Taking a shaky breath, Joe finally writes back. 

**_Joe_ to the three musketeers** _u win assholes. See you Friday_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The perks of being a teacher is I currently have a lot of free time to write (when I’m not prepping for the return from break). The drawback is it’s a struggle to keep this fic from devolving fully into a teacher au and it’s getting harder and harder to resist the lure of writing an enemies to lovers fic with Joe and Nicky working in the same school. Just...all the TV shows and movies that portray teachers do not get anywhere _near_ the chaos and hilarity I experience on a daily basis.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicky and Joe go on their first non-couch date. Later, it’s time for Pride!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am...absolutely blown away and humbled by the amount of comments last chapter got and by all of your kind words. I don’t know how to properly express my gratitude for your enthusiasm and support so all I can give you is some fluff and a heart. Thank you <3
> 
> Chapter warning (though I do realise this is slightly expected at this point) for talk of trauma. It’s Joe’s turn again in this chapter! Also brief discussion about sex but nothing too explicit.

**Quỳnh** _Enjoy yourself tmrw! See you for your shift Saturday_

Nicky blinks down at his text with a frown. 

**Nicky** _Quỳnh tomorrow’s Friday. I’m working from 7-1._

He watches with bemusement as the three dots pop up and disappear several times until Quỳnh seems to give up whatever she was trying to say. Shrugging, Nicky sets his phone aside to return to his computer when Joe’s buzzes. Whatever he reads has him looking at Nicky with an unreadable expression. Nicky raises a brow, willing to wait Joe out. After a moment in which he types furiously on his phone before setting it aside with a sigh, Joe runs nervous fingers through his hair. “So,” he clears his throat. “Heard you might be free tomorrow night. To.” Joe studies the painting Nile made for him with an intensity that is bridging on comedic. “Go out?” 

Nicky’s heart beats faster as he realises that Joe is _asking him out on a date_ before he falters. “I would love to but I have a-” Nicky frowns as Quỳnh’s message comes back to him. Groaning he shoots Joe an exasperated smile. “Do you ever regret having meddling friends?” he asks, opening his phone screen to show Joe his messages. Huffing out a breath of laughter, Joe shows Nicky his phone with a message from Nile that says _I WILL MARCH OVER THERE AND ASK HIM MYSELF IF YOU DONT DO IT IN THE NEXT MINUTE._ Warmth surges through his chest at how much their friends are encouraging them to pursue their relationship further, even if they’re absolutely maddening at the same time. Without a word, Nicky turns back to his conversation with Quỳnh. 

_See you Saturday_

Joe beams as Nicky shows him his screen before biting his lip. “I’m, uh, kinda rusty with this whole dating thing,” he admits sheepishly, playing with his necklace as he speaks. “Not sure how this should work.”

Watching the silver of the ring play in the light, Nicky smiles softly. “I’ve got it covered.” 

As they settle comfortably back into the couch, Nicky turns to his open document with a frown. “What do you think about the Crusades?” 

Joe pauses the sketch he was working on where the two main female characters of their book meet. “I think you’ll need to be a bit more specific babe,” he says wryly. 

Ignoring the butterflies that flutter through his stomach at that name, Nicky taps his space bar thoughtfully. “Remember the two characters I first told you about? The enemies turned lovers?” When Joe nods Nicky leans back and crosses his arms. “I’ve been reworking the modern day plot lines since you gave me the idea of a graphic novel, but I wanted to dip more into the origin stories and play around with some flashback scenes too. At first I imagined those two characters as fighting on opposite sides of the Peloponnesian War. You know, the classic Athenians vs. Spartans, but that’s not as compelling as I once thought. At the end of the day, they weren’t that drastically different.” 

Excitement building, he sets his computer aside and shifts so he’s kneeled, facing Joe on the couch. “But if we take characters from two entirely different worlds- religion, culture, language, even _food_ that’s different, and in a war where one side is so obviously in the wrong, then that love story becomes that more improbable and in doing so becomes that more powerful. So. What do you think about the crusades?” He finishes his pitch with his hands on his knees while Joe stares at him, pencil loose in his fingers. 

“I think that I could listen to you talk about your ideas for hours,” Joe responds with a besotted smile. 

Ducking his head to hide his blush Nicky mumbles, “That wasn’t the question Yusuf.” Fingertips Nicky is happy to describe as familiar lift his chin and draw Nicky forward into a kiss. Helpless as always to resist the lure of Joe’s lips, Nicky releases a happy hum and allows Joe to distract him. 

Kissing Joe will never get old, Nicky is certain. Feeling wild curls between his fingers and a muscled back as Nicky’s hands move restlessly, hearing the happy rumbles and sighs that slip out between soft lips, the way that Joe kisses with intention and passion and a single-mindedness that makes Nicky feel like he's the center of the universe... No, Nicky will never get tired of it. 

When they break away and Nicky breathes through the latent arousal that has become an unfortunate side effect of these late-night make out sessions, Joe is still looking at him with that soft smile as he traces a knuckle along Nicky’s cheek. “Crusades,” he hums with a nod. “I like the sound of that.”

*******

**_Nile_ to the three musketeers** _So how much is he freaking out today?_

 **Booker** _from a rating scale of 1-10? I’d say a 20-25_

 **Booker** _he stared for 5 mins at the sandwich Nicky packed for him like it held the secrets of the universe and then started pacing the fac room_

 **Booker** _the fac room isn’t that big_

 **Joe** _you both are giant assholes and I don’t know why I’m friends with you_

 **Booker** _cause you have bad taste?_

 **Nile** _lack of options?_

 **Joe** _clearly I’m just a magnet for assholes_

 **Booker** _are you calling Nicky an asshole?_

 **Nile** _*surprised face*_

 **Joe** _*middle finger*_

*******

**_Quỳnh_ to 2 moms & their gay son** _Look what Nile taught me to do!_

 **Andy** _proud of u babe_

 **Quỳnh** _anyway, so Nicky how many times have you gone home to change your outfit while you wait to pick up the kids?_

 **Nicky** _*middle finger*_

*******

**Joe** _are your friends being pricks to you too?_

 **Nicky** _unsurprisingly, yes_

 **Nicky** _the kids are excited to see their Uncle and Auntie tonight though_

 **Joe** _that assumes that they’ll still be alive by tonight_

*******

Joe shifts in their booth restlessly as he fidgets with his menu and adjusts the collar of his shirt which is a bit too fancy for where they are. Nicky, bless his heart, chose somewhere casual and Italian. He knows how much Joe is entertained when he goes full Italian stereotype snob and he also could tell that anything fancier than an Olive Garden was probably going to throw Joe into a full panic. Coincidentally enough, that’s where they actually ended up going to. An Olive Garden.

“What is this supposed to be? Garlic bread?” Nicky says with disgust, staring at the piece of bread he just took a bite of like it’s insulted his cooking. If anything, it certainly insulted his palate. 

Happily munching on his bread since months of Nicky’s cooking doesn’t fully erase the years of ramen meals, Joe shrugs. “Maybe you gotta be a bit less picky babe.” He can’t stop the grin that forms when Nicky glowers at him. What can he say? It’s cute when that regal nose gets all scrunched up while those full lips pinch together.

“What?” Nicky asks, wiping his mouth subconsciously. 

Leaning his cheek on his propped up hand Joe lets his smile widen. “I just find you cute.” He’ll never get tired of seeing Nicky blush, the way he always tries to duck his head to hide his pleased smile. 

“What can I get you two gentlemen?” their waiter asks as he walks up to their table. 

While Nicky turns to scowl at his menu, Joe reaches a hand out to cover his fist. “I’ll order for you ya amar, to save you from the stress.” Nicky lowers his menu, surprise crossing his face before he looks at where their hands are touching with a disarmed smile. Returning to study the menu, Joe allows his grin to shift and when Nicky spots it, his eyes narrow. That man can already tell when Joe is up to something and it makes the reveals that much sweeter. He still gets a kick every time he sees Nicky in that apron he bought him. “I’ll have the cheese ravioli and my lovely companion will order the Tour of Italy.”

Joe hands the waiter his menu without looking away from where Nicky is gazing at him with fond exasperation. “You’re a ridiculous man,” he huffs out as the waiter walks away. 

“You know I’m starting to take that as a term of endearment from you Nicolò,” Joe says with a playful grin, the nerves from before fully evaporated. 

There’s that adorable head duck again. “Maybe it is,” he murmurs. 

A contented silence falls between them as Joe spoons out some salad on both of their plates. “Will you laugh at me if I tell you I was nervous about tonight?” Joe asks, hunching forward and playing with his half-eaten bread. 

Tilting his head while he takes a bite of salad Nicky muses, “Will _you_ if I say I felt the same?” 

Huffing out a breath of laughter, Joe flips his hand over so Nicky can slot their fingers together. “It’s silly, right?” he asks, studying their locked hands. “Technically we’ve been together for two months.” Smirking he adds, “Though even that can be argued since we had already slept together at that point.” Beaming as Nicky chokes on a sip of wine Joe raises his hands. “Sorry. Couldn't help myself.” (Even if he isn’t even _close_ to being ready for that step yet.)

Muttering to himself in Italian as he wipes his mouth, Nicky snatches Joe’s hand back to his utter delight. “I don’t think it’s silly,” Nicky murmurs as he brushes a thumb along Joe’s knuckles. “As much as I love our living room dates there is something more...official, when you leave the house,” he remarks with one of those subtle smiles. 

“Sorry it’s taken me two months and judgement from my students and friends to manage it,” Joe grimaces. His stomach twists at the reminder that Nicky could be doing so much better than him. Flinching when he finds his ear subsequently flicked, Joe pouts at the unimpressed Italian. “What was that for?” 

“Do we need to write out a contract for when it’s actually necessary to apologise?” he asks crossly. 

“Um-” Joe says, feeling slightly lost. “Maybe?” 

“Oh Yusuf,” Nicky sighs with that soft smile. “When we first started this I told you I was willing to go at _your_ pace. I know we were kinda cornered into this but if all our dates for the foreseeable future are tea and talks on that couch, I’ll still continue to call myself lucky.” 

Joe finds himself speechless, something only Nicky seems to be able to manage to do to him. Before he can find the words to express his gratitude, his...his...Nicky makes an amused sound. “Besides, at your place I would be able to feed you _real_ garlic bread, not this Americanized crap.” 

Joe guffaws, delighting in the pleased smile crossing Nicky’s face in response. “Oh Nico I-” but he stops himself, swallowing while Nicky watches him with soft and understanding eyes.

“I know Yusuf,” he whispers, squeezing Joe’s hand. But he just slumps. Even if Nicky thinks he knows that Joe...that Joe....

It’s different from actually _hearing_ those words. But every time Joe thinks he’s ready the words get lodged in his throat as an image of Monique’s face, damaged and unrecognisable, flashes before his eyes. Closing his eyes against the assault of those images, Joe takes a shaky breath. Nicky deserves to know. 

“Every time I want to say it, I see her face. But not-” Joe swallows around a dry throat and keeps his eyes trained on where he’s now clutching Nicky’s hand in a death grip. “Not as she was...but after. After the accident.” The underlying terror he feels on a daily basis that he tries to hide behind laughter and a smile crashes over him like a tidal wave. “I’m scared,” he whispers, trembling. “I’m scared to love again just to have you torn from me like she was. And I’m terrified ‘cause it’s already too late and I know I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried.” 

Joe doesn’t realise that his eyes are squeezed shut until his head is guided to lean against a shoulder that certainly wasn’t beside him before. Fingers Joe has sketched an embarrassing amount of times card through his hair while an unfamiliar song is hummed in his ear. Joe desperately focuses on keeping himself grounded through Nicky’s scent of cedar, through his rumbling voice and soothing hands.

Eventually, when he’s almost positive he isn’t about to start sobbing in the middle of an Olive Garden, Joe turns to look at Nicky, frowning at the sorrow reflected in those ethereal eyes. “Nico?” he prompts, touching his cheek. 

Catching his fingers, Nicky presses a long kiss to them. “I just wish I could take some of your pain away,” he says simply, his fervent gaze burning through Joe's chest. “I wish I could promise you that nothing will ever happen to me. I wish I could give you that peace, that comfort.” With a sigh, Nicky leans toward Joe and he meets him in the middle, pressing their foreheads together. “But all I can give you is my love and my hope that if the God you believe in exists, he wouldn’t be so cruel as to take me away too.”

Joe bites his cheek until he can taste copper to stop the tears from falling, heart tumbling through his chest. Taking a shaky breath Joe chokes out, “Look at us, making a scene at the Olive Garden. This is a classy restaurant you know Nico, now we’ll never be invited back.” 

Releasing a burst of laughter and drawing away with a crooked grin, Nicky taps the side of his nose. “That was the plan all along.” Shifting so he can wrap his arm more comfortably around Joe’s shoulders, Nicky drags his wine over to make it clear that he’s not returning to his side of the table. Not that Joe is complaining.

When their dinner arrives 10 minutes later, Joe has to bite his cheek again, this time to keep control of the laughter threatening to burst out at Nicky’s look of horror. “What is this?” he whispers, staring at his food like it’s come to life. 

“Um-I may have ordered based on the title alone without reading the description,” Joe admits with a wince as he studies what looks like chicken parmesan, lasagna, and fettuccine alfredo all on one plate.

“It’s diabolical,” he hisses. Unable to control himself any more, Joe laughs until his frame shakes, his mirth amplifying when Nicky turns to him with a look of betrayal. 

When he finally calms down enough, Joe pats Nicky’s back. “I should’ve brought you somewhere nicer. Somewhere I could properly woo you,” he bemoans. 

Nicky however doesn’t take this as the joke it’s meant to be, frowning. “First off, _I_ chose this spot and second-” Nicky’s voice started to rise but now he pauses with a smile, lowering it again. “And second, you don’t need to woo me Yusuf, I’m already wooed.” 

Joe stares at Nicky helplessly. “How do you speak with such...genuine sincerity?” he asks, honestly befuddled. 

Nicky shrugs. “I just speak the truth.” 

“Like that!” Joe exclaims, stabbing a piece of ravioli and gesturing wildly with his fork. “It’s infuriating!” All of Joe’s exaggerated affront dissolves however when Nicky leans forward and bites the ravioli that was dangling from Joe’s fork. 

While Joe gapes at him, Nicky wipes his mouth before cutting a dainty slice into his lasagna. Chewing slowly, Nicky shrugs. “I’ve definitely had worse,” he determines, drawing Joe out of his shock enough to chuckle. 

“You know if you wanted me to share, all you had to do was ask,” he comments in lieu of anything more suave to say. 

“But this way is so much more fun,” Nicky replies, eyes glittering with mirth. Helpless in the face of this remarkable man and determined to get him on the backfoot, Joe raises his fork up with a challenging brow and a fresh piece of pasta. “Don’t mind if I do,” Nicky purrs, leaning forward and taking a bite while maintaining full eye contact with Joe the whole time like some kind of sex god. 

Wetting lips that suddenly feel far too dry Joe squeaks, “I should mention…” He trails off again as Nicky licks his lips slowly. 

“Yes?” Nicky prompts, taking a sip of his wine. 

Swallowing, Joe tries again. “I should mention that I’ve been abstinent for the past three years so I simultaneously want to jump your bones and know that I need a lot more time until I’m ready for any bone jumping,” he rushes out. 

Making a face at the odd turn of phrase, Nicky pecks Joe’s cheek. “Your pace, love. Your pace.” 

Licking his lips again and feeling slightly appalled at how brazen he's about to be Joe adds offhandedly, “All that is to say that it’s very possible I’ll be jerking off later tonight to the image of you eating from my fork and licking your lips.” Though he feels slightly bad at how Nicky chokes on the bite of fettuccine he was in the middle of slurping, it was absolutely worth it for the blush spreading across his cheeks. Though that could also be from the lack of oxygen. 

By the time Nicky has chugged half a glass of water, the glare he’s shooting Joe hasn’t abated and neither has Joe’s grin. “You’re a horrible person,” he finally gasps out. 

Joe shrugs unrepentantly. “I thought communication was a healthy part of a relationship Nico,” he says with innocence that wouldn’t fool a child. 

Thumping his head on Joe’s shoulder Nicky mutters, “You’re the worst.” Joe is about to protest when Nicky adds as casually as one would speak of the weather, “Also if you think I haven’t been jerking off to the image of you at this point I think you have a poor understanding of how hot you can look in just sweatpants and a sweatshirt.” 

“Ooo you fantasize about me babe?” Joe asks with delight in an attempt to disguise the way his ears have warmed. Nicky elbows him and stubbornly shoves a bite of chicken in his mouth in response. “Well at least I’m not alone then,” Joe hums, kissing Nicky’s cheek to feel his blush. Then, in an attempt to steer this conversation slightly closer into the realm of a PG rating, Joe nods towards Nicky’s dish. “So? Are you enjoying your Tour of Italy?” 

Glaring at him Nicky mutters, “I’ll show you a tour of Italy,” before stealing Joe’s bite once more. 

“I bet you can,” Joe says faintly, before reminding his cock that now is really not the time to make itself known. Suddenly this whole sitting in the same booth idea seems poorly thought out. 

*******

**_Nile_ to shit lets start a band** _GUESS WHAT IT’S ALMOST TIME FOR??!!??_

 **Nile** _*rainbow flag*_

 **Nile** _*rainbow flag*_

 **Nile** _*rainbow flag*_

 **Nile** _*rainbow flag*_

 **Nile** _*rainbow flag*_

 **Nile** _y’all are coming to march w/ us right???_

 **Quỳnh** _If the parade is early enough we would love to!_

 **Andy** _the bar hosts a Pride Night. We make our signature rainbow cocktails so def swing by later either way._

 **Nile** _y’know sometimes idk if you spend time with us for our friendship or our patronage_

 **Quỳnh** _both of course!_

 **Andy** _the latter obviously_

 **Nile** _Fine then! I won’t be giving you the Pride merch I bought for you two in that case_

 **Andy** _...what kind?_

 **Nile** _*image sent*_

 **Andy** _we’ll be there_

 **Nicky** _I’ll have Joe send you all the info when he’s done agonising over the latest logistics that has him stress drawing_

 **Nile** _awww I love his stress drawings! He really leans into the abstract_

*******

Nicky tightens his grip on Amani and Basim’s hands as he walks behind Joe and tries to absorb the roar of sound and colour. He’s never gone to Pride. For most of his life even the word in connection to his identity was laughable, and once he escaped from under his parents’ thumb, it just didn’t occur to Nicky. He saw the occasional news coverage but that’s all he knew about it. Certainly didn’t know it was kid friendly or that schools marched in it too. 

Keeping his eyes trained on the back of Joe’s rainbow hat as he shouts and directs the students and their families through the crowds, Nicky feels a mixture of pride (heh) and apprehension. Organizing students, faculty, and parents to the right starting point is a logistical nightmare by itself, but that’s also just the tip of the iceberg of what Joe does. When Joe pulled down a suitcase the night before, Nicky made a joke about him running away only for Joe to laugh him off. “It’s a long day and most of it’s spent in the sun. I like to bring snacks and water to keep people hydrated.” Tugging over a package Joe waggles his brows. “Not to mention extra decorations and swag for people who want to be part of the rainbow spirit.” 

Nicky saw that gleam in Joe’s eyes and _still_ came to the apartment the next morning, which is how he’s now covered in temporary rainbow tattoos and face paint while wearing a t-shirt that says in rainbow lettering “CAN’T EVEN THINK STRAIGHT.” Meanwhile Amani, Basim, and Joe are wearing matching rainbow hats and rainbow tie dye t-shirts that say “SHS Pride” in the top right corner, the same shirts many of the students and faculty who came are also wearing. Nicky has taken...an absurd number of photos already. 

Fortunately, Booker, Nile, Andy, and Quỳnh are already at the meeting spot so they don’t need to track them down. When he sees what each of them are wearing, Nicky can’t help but laugh. Slurping on an ice tea and donning rainbow sunglasses, Andy is proudly wearing a shirt with the bisexual flag and two crossed axes on it that says “I SWING BOTH WAYS” on the top of the flag and “VIOLENTLY WITH AN AXE” at the bottom. She’s smugly holding the hand of a beaming Quỳnh whose shirt reads “SWORD LESBIANS WILL SAVE THE WORLD” with an image of a cartoon character wielding a sword. 

Yep. Nile certainly knows them. 

Speaking of, Nile has a shirt with a dagger amidst purple roses and the phrase “Dagger Demi” under it. Nicky furrows his brow. He may need to ask Joe about that one later. Booker’s arm is wrapped around Nile and he’s watching the crowds with lazy amusement while he wears a shirt that says, “Started from the bottom now we’re QUEER.” All four of them are also covered in rainbow tattoos and face paint with rainbow sweatbands as well. They fit in perfectly. 

As the crowd of students, families, and faculty coalesce around the group of wonderful people Nicky can call friends, he takes a steady breath. It’s not like he’s been in the closet since he left home with Andy and Quỳnh but this is the most...visible he’s been with his identity all his life. He’s had boyfriends, kissed in public, done all of that. But this is...loudly and proudly and _unashamedly_ announcing who you are to anyone who can see. It’s thrilling and terrifying in equal parts. 

Not wanting to bother Joe as he checks his list to make sure they have everyone, Nicky guides Amani and Basim towards their friend group. “Look at our fashionistas over there!” Quỳnh calls out with a grin. While Amani happily skips over to Quỳnh to chatter to her, Basim stays back, pressed against Nicky’s leg. 

He was honestly surprised that Joe brings the kids especially Basim to the parade considering how shy the boy is, but when he expressed concerns Joe just smiled softly. “He starts nervous but once the parade gets going he gets swept along with the rest of us. Usually I have Nile and Booker keeping an eye on them but feel free to help if you want as well.” While Nicky is pretty sure that didn’t mean “steal the job from Booker and Nile” that’s what he’s gone and done anyway. Booker and Nile deserve to have a fun time and Nicky knows that he wouldn’t be able to if he didn’t feel two tiny hands in his the entire time. The crowds are just so _big._

“How are you doing passerotto?” Nicky asks, ducking down so Basim can hear him. When Basim doesn’t respond but only presses closer, Nicky tuts and settles onto the ground. Basim cuddles into his arms the moment that Nicky opens them and for a long moment he just hums softly in the boy’s ear, stroking through his hair as he does. “Want to practice some Italian passerotto mio?” When Basim nods, Nicky hums to himself. _”What do you want for dinner?”_

_”Can we have shakshouka? I liked eating it during Ramadan.”_

Nicky smiles. _”Sounds like a lovely idea.”_

Basim burrows his head further into Nicky's chest, arms tightening around him. _"I'm glad you're here."_

Nicky's smile softens as he adjusts Basim's hat to sit more firmly on his head. _"I'm glad I'm here too."_ Even if it’s overwhelming and nerve-wracking and Joe and Nicky ironically aren’t openly affectionate, being surrounded by so many people celebrating being themselves is utterly electrifying. 

_“What does your shirt say?”_ Basim asks, leaning back enough to study Nicky's chest and tilt his head. 

Nicky mentally groans. Damn Joe and his delight with his play on words. “Can’t even think straight,” he responds in English.

Unfortunately, as expected, that’s not enough for Basim, whose brows furrow. _”What does it mean?”_

_”It’s a joke because I’m gay so I’m not straight. So my thoughts technically aren’t straight. But usually if someone says it they mean that they’re having trouble thinking.”_

Basim blinks at him, head tilting further. Nicky sighs. His Italian is incredibly strong so Basim’s confusion is completely the fault of his father’s horrible humour. It amazes Nicky how quickly the kids have picked up Italian, though it does make him feel slightly self-conscious at his own lack of progress in the language acquisition department. _”You’re silly Nicky Mouse,”_ is Basim’s eventual assessment, wiggling the hat propped on Nicky’s head back and forth.

Huffing out a breath of laughter, Nicky nods. “ _As this shirt proves, so is your baba.”_

“I think I recognised one of those words,” a welcome voice hums from behind him. Craning his neck, Nicky grins at a sweaty Joe who, despite his pinched smile, scoops up his son and twirls him around to make him laugh. “Are we talking about your baba behind his back?” Joe demands, dangling Basim by his feet upside down as he shrieks delightedly and holds onto his hat. 

“It was Nicky Mouse baba! He called you _silly!”_

Gasping dramatically, Joe swings Basim around so he is planted on his back. “Me? Silly? How could you Nico?” he asks with wide doe eyes. 

Basim watches Nicky from where he’s peering behind Joe’s neck with a grin. “I’m sorry Yusuf but I was only speaking the truth,” Nicky says gravely as he stands up to walk closer to Joe. He has to stop when there’s a foot of distance between them so he’s not tempted to lean forward and kiss him though. They’re not there yet. 

“Nicky Mouse me me!” Amani begs, tugging on his shorts as she watches Joe rock back and forth while Basim clings onto his back with glee. Setting aside his backpack with extra water and snacks, Nicky lets Amani clamber onto his back and while the children call to each other from their higher perches, he and Joe shoot each other shy smiles. “So,” Joe says awkwardly. “Happy Pride.” 

“Eyyy Nicky lookin’ good!” a familiar voice crows before Nicky can respond. Eyes widening, Nicky turns to where Alyssa, Dom, and Yazmyn saunter over, all three absolutely covered in rainbow. Yazmyn has turned her SHS shirt into a tasteful crop top and is wearing rainbow webbed tights underneath jean shorts while her hair is pulled up into a rainbow bandana and glitter covers her face. Alyssa is wearing what looks like a pair of men’s bathing suit trunks that have a rainbow flag on them while her SHS shirt has its sleeves cut off. Her short-cropped hair is covered by a backwards hat similar to the one Joe, Amani, Basim, and Nicky are wearing and her face is covered in face paint. Dom meanwhile hasn’t altered their SHS shirt and is just wearing basketball shorts, though their hair has been dyed rainbow and like their friends, barely any clear skin is showing. Despite the range of outfits, all three of them are wearing matching rainbow converse. 

“What happened to ‘meet us at the train station’ like the past three years?’” Joe growls, hands still secure around Basim’s while he sways them back and forth. 

“We had to make some last minute stops,” Yazmyn shrugs, tightening her grip on her backpack before she spots Quỳnh. “Ooo I like that shirt,” she declares, stalking over to her. While her friends follow, a wave of apprehension rolls through Nicky’s stomach. 

“I don’t know how I feel about them meeting Quỳnh and Andy,” he says faintly. 

Joe watches on with a matching expression. “Oh dear.” 

Fortunately, while the three seniors are taken under Andy and Quỳnh’s wing like a group of sassy ducklings, no knives make an appearance so Nicky and Joe eventually leave them to be unsupervised. Though whether they’ll regret making such a decision later is yet to be seen. 

Nicky can feel the curious glances being shot his way as he continues to carry Amani on his back and stick beside Joe. He knows what it looks like, and even if it’s exactly what it seems, Nicky isn’t going to betray Joe’s trust or stress him out even further than he already is. So while Joe coordinates who will be carrying what flag and poster and banner (there are _so_ many things to carry) Nicky attempts to navigate the unsubtle questioning of Joe’s students, parents, and colleagues. 

“So how do you know him?” 

“I answered an ad in the paper. Mr. Al-Kaysani needed a babysitter,” Nicky explains to the gaggle of rainbow-bedecked high schoolers. 

“You must be the longest lasting sitter yet,” Johnson, a science teacher observes, blue eyes sharp and assessing and long brown hair in a high ponytail with a rainbow scrunchie. 

Nicky just shrugs uncomfortably, praying that his and Joe’s bribery to Amani and Basim in an attempt to keep them silent worked. 

“Me and Basi love Nicky and want him to move in but Baba keeps saying no,” Amani pouts, making Nicky wince. So much for that.

“Why don’t you ask Uncle Booker for a ride, yeah?” he asks the mischievous girl desperately. 

“Hmm...no,” she replies, propping her chin on Nicky’s head. “I’m happy here.” 

When he turns back to the crowd of people interrogating him, they now look like a pack of starving wolves. “You know, why don’t we visit one of those stands, yes patatina?” he babbles, backing away. “Perhaps we can find something for you and your brother.” Nicky’s retreat is certainly not dignified nor subtle but it was absolutely necessary. Fortunately, while he tries to collect his composure Amani selects two tiny rainbow flags that she and Basim can wave around with glee. 

“Can I help you?” Booker asks dryly as Nicky tries to slip behind him a moment later. 

“Just. Pretend to talk to me,” Nicky pleads. 

Turning to flash him a smirk Booker remarks, “You’re gonna be the biggest source of gossip this week, I hope you know that. Neither of you are subtle.” 

Nicky swallows dryly, heart plummeting at the prospect of failing Joe. “What do you mean?” 

“Joe keeps glancing at you and everyone can see his heart eyes even through his sunglasses. And these kids are constantly shipping people. For a year they shipped me and Joe. Apparently ‘friends to lovers’ is a common fan fic trope.” 

“Shipping…?” Nicky asks helplessly, head reeling as he tries to comprehend what Booker is saying. 

Instead of responding, Booker pats Nicky’s back. “You’re doin’ great buddy. Keep up the good work!” And then with a lighthearted whistle, he walks away and abandons Nicky to be swarmed once again, the bastard.

“I gotta take a break, okay patatina?” Nicky says weakly. While Amani releases an unhappy grumble, Nicky lowers himself until he’s leaning against a brick wall. 

“Hey, don’t forget to hydrate.” Nicky blinks at the water bottle being waved in front of him before accepting it with a muttered thanks. Nodding, Dom slips beside Nicky and lets Amani climb into their lap. “This your first Pride?” they inquire, clasping Amani's hands in their own and dancing their arms up and down to the girl's delight. 

“That obvious?” he asks ruefully as he takes a sip of water and realises he was really damn thirsty.

Dom releases a huff of laughter. “You certainly have that lost puppy look, but that could also be because you’ve been getting interrogated at every turn.”

“I’m not used to so much attention,” Nicky admits, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair only to be stopped by the unfamiliar texture of a hat. 

Dom snorts at his nervous fidgeting before knocking shoulders with him. “I know you and Mr. A are trying to keep this on the down-low, but I think y’all don’t realise how obvious you are.” 

Groaning, Nicky thumps his head against the wall. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.” 

Dom shakes their hand, giving Amani a twirl as they do. “No you definitely needed to. This is the least frantic I’ve seen Mr. A during Pride.” Nicky raises a skeptical brow, nodding pointedly towards where Joe is spinning in circles with Basim still riding on his back, flipping through his clipboard and talking to three people at once. 

“Just watch,” Dom insists. As Joe takes another circuit he catches sight of Nicky and pauses, a grin spreading across his face while Basim waves. Even from this distance, Nicky can see how Joe’s shoulders relax slightly when their eyes meet, and after Nicky waves back and Joe turns back to one of the people talking to him, he is clearly speaking slower. 

“Oh,” Nicky says dumbly.

“Mhm. We’ve spread the word to keep it quiet for Mr. A's sake but I just thought it might help you to know that you don’t gotta work so hard to be secretive. It’s clear you dig him and we know Mr. A hasn’t been out much since Mrs. A passed so we won’t ruin this for him.”

“Thanks Dom,” Nicky whispers, a mixture of emotions whirling through his chest. Though he feels slightly guilty, Nicky can’t help but be relieved that he doesn’t need to try so hard to pretend he’s not hopelessly in love. They shoot him a soft smile. “We all owe Mr. A more than we could say. I know Alyssa and Yazmyn seem like they have their shit together but before they met Mr. A they were the shyest chicks you ever met and we were all complete disasters.” 

“Language,” Nicky says vaguely, causing Dom to roll their eyes before continuing. 

“Mr. A gave us room to find ourselves. He was the first adult the three of us came out to and he helped us come out to our parents too, talked them through it when they didn’t understand.” Dom nods toward a group of middle aged men and women. “Started a support group for parents to learn more about the LGBTQ+ community and now they march with us too.” Dom clears their throat, fingering a line along their arm. “I don’t think I’d be here without him.” 

Nicky turns to Joe with a new perspective. Of course he knew Joe was a wonderful teacher but this seems like an entirely different level of impact. This precious precious man. Nicky hopes he knows how much he’s loved. 

“That’s why we were late,” they add with a conspiratorial grin. “We had been working on a surprise for him and needed to make some last minute finishing touches.” Before Nicky can ask for some details, Joe pulls out an honest to god _whistle_ and blows it while gesturing for the scattered group to come together. Crouching down, Dom lets Amani clamber onto their back while Nicky watches with sweaty palms. He knows he can trust them but…

Well, perhaps they can spend time with Amani until the march begins. 

Nicky squeezes past everyone in an unconscious urge to get closer to Joe, and no one fights him, instead shooting him assessing and curious glances that he futilely tries to ignore. Watching Joe work the crowd, giving directions and answering lingering questions with so much confidence and competence it’s obscene causes Nicky to have some unwelcome feelings and urges he desperately shoves down. Before they can all get into formation however, Yazmyn cuts in. “Mr. A if I could have the floor for a moment?” she calls. 

Joe pauses mid-sentence to shoot her a fondly exasperated look. “At this point I don’t think I could stop you if I wanted to,” he remarks wryly.

“Quite right,” she sniffs before heading to the front of the crowd with Alyssa and Dom. “Now, for those of you who don’t know us, me, Alyssa, and Dom are the student leaders of the GSA. We’ve been part of the GSA since we were baby freshmen like so many of you are now. And though we are graduating and will obvi be returning to march with y’all in future years, we wanted to honour Mr. A for all he’s done for us.” 

While Yazmyn gently transfers Basim to her back, Alyssa pulls two objects from her backpack. Lifting up what looks like a crown with some hooks surrounding it, Alyssa gestures to Joe. “If you could kneel, sire,” she commands, causing chuckles to sound through the crowd. Though Joe shoots her a bemused smile, he obeys. “We know how much you love your hats Mr. A, so fortunately your crown has clips that attach right onto it,” she explains as she affixes the crown that looks like it’s been handmade. 

“And why do I have a crown Al?” he asks with indulgent amusement. 

“‘Cause you’re the Skittles King!” Dom proclaims, unfurling a rainbow flag that has “Be the Rainbow'' written in glittery text with what looks like names scattered around it. Whoops sound from the various students while Joe throws his head back in laughter (the beautiful man) so it’s clearly an inside joke.

“We got all the GSA members to sign it, even if they couldn’t make the march with us,” Yazmyn explains. “And each year, we know more names will be added until there are more words than flag so you can remember how many kids’ lives you changed.”

Joe is still kneeling but is now gripping the flag with tears in his eyes as they rove from name to name. “You three are assholes,” he finally chokes out. 

“LANGUAGE!” is the chorus of responses, followed by delighted laughter. Standing up and tugging the grinning seniors in a hug, Joe mumbles something to them that’s got them all standing there for a long emotional moment. Pulling out his phone, Nicky takes a quick photo. “ALL HAIL THE SKITTLES KING!” a voice in the crowd hollers. 

Joe pulls away with a laugh, giving a mocking bow. “I vow to be a fair and honest ruler whose only tax will be on your skittles,” he declares dramatically, earning groans and laughter in response. Nicky just grins, snapping more photos and starting a video to capture the joy surrounding him while the three seniors fit the flag-cape onto Joe. This is clearly a story he’ll have to get from Joe at some point. 

As the group in front of them starts to move, Nicky hurries over to Dom and Yazmyn to take Amani and Basim from them. Holding their hands and somehow ending up beside Joe while doing so, Nicky shoots him a bright smile. “After you my liege,” he says playfully. 

Joe’s face softens for a moment as he sees Nicky standing between his children before he turns to his waiting subjects. “Forward...MARCH!” he calls, and they are off in a whirl of colour, laughter, and love. 

*******

“And they all lived happily ever after,” Joe yawns, blinking down at the thankfully sleeping faces. “Alhamdulillah,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face. 

“C’mon, time for you to go to bed now,” a warm voice says beside him, coaxing Joe to stand on wobbling legs. 

“‘S only 7,” Joe mumbles. 

“And you’ve been up and nonstop since 4,” Nicky retorts, guiding Joe into his room. When Joe face-plants onto his bed Nicky releases a low chuckle before he starts tugging off his socks. “Come on love, I could use some help,” he teases. Joe grumbles in response, burrowing deeper into a pillow. He could fall asleep just like this. “I know you’re going to regret falling asleep like that tomorrow tesoro,” Nicky sighs. “Just a quick shower, clean clothes, and then you can sleep, yes?” 

God, the concept of standing upright long enough to shower seems impossible. Joe tries to make this known via several displeased grumbles. “Fine, how about just a change of clothes then?” is the amused suggestion. Joe releases slightly more assenting groans before finding his arms being maneuvered without his permission. He lets Nicky use him as a puppet, his arms flopping to and fro while Nicky mutters to himself in Italian. “You’re a ridiculous man,” he ultimately huffs out. When Joe mumbles into his pillow Nicky releases a breath of laughter. “Yes yes a ridiculous man I love.” 

Soon Nicky has successfully tugged off his sweat-soaked shirt and replaced it with a cool t-shirt that’s the perfect amount of stretched out. There’s a hesitation. “I don’t want to cross any boundaries but you should really change your bottoms too,” Nicky murmurs. With a whine, Joe fumbles until he’s tugged down his shorts and briefs, too exhausted to be embarrassed. Folding his fingers around the fresh pair of underwear shoved in his hand, Joe slips them on before flopping back into bed.

“Cuddle,” he demands into the pillow. 

Another silence. “What?” 

Joe raises an imperious arm, eyes shut and face buried in his pillow. “Skittle King demands cuddles.” 

“I think all of this power has gone to your head,” Nicky hums with amusement. But after a rustle of clothing, he slides under Joe’s arm with a contented sigh, eyes fluttering shut when Joe nuzzles his neck. 

“Stay,” Joe sighs, already slipping off to sleep. 

“As long as you’ll let me,” is the whispered reply. Joe only tugs Nicky closer in response before sleep fully overtakes him as he's surrounded by the scent of home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact I once made an Italian eat Olive Garden and it was highly entertaining, 10/10 would recommend. 
> 
> Pride designs! These are the shirts I based each of the Guard’s looks off of. I was gonna give Andy and Quỳnh [these](https://www.etsy.com/listing/785399557/lgbt-couple-shirt-lesbian-couple?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=couple+pride+shirts&ref=sr_gallery-1-1&organic_search_click=1&pro=1) couples’s shirts but then I found the ones I described in the fic and had to change my mind. But Nile absolutely bought them these too. 
> 
> [Nicky’s](https://www.etsy.com/listing/607064316/gay-pride-shirt-lgbt-shirt-lesbian-shirt?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=funny+pride+shirts&ref=sr_gallery-1-9&organic_search_click=1&pro=1&col=1)
> 
> [Andy’s](https://www.etsy.com/listing/838941130/i-swing-both-ways-violently-with-an-axe?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=funny+pride+shirts&ref=sr_gallery-1-31&organic_search_click=1&pro=1&col=1)
> 
> [Quỳnh’s](https://www.lookhuman.com/design/374880/3600-black-md)
> 
> [Nile’s](https://www.redbubble.com/i/t-shirt/DAGGER-DEMI-by-foxflight/33111390.WFLAH)
> 
> [Booker’s](https://www.etsy.com/listing/916735356/started-from-the-closet-now-were-queer?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=funny+pride+shirts&ref=sc_gallery-1-4&plkey=c858fe8339fecc2136c1c477483bf5808a8f81ae%3A916735356)
> 
> Alhamdulillah: thank god, praise to god
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amani and Basim don't get one wish but they do get another!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention this but any time dialogue is in italics, assume they’re speaking a different language. 
> 
> Also, there is a brief allusion to sex but again nothing explicit and it's pretty quick. Just wanted to give people a heads up.
> 
>  **Updated note**  
>  Check chapter 13 for an explanation on Rawiya's name change

Nicky wakes up slowly, surrounded by warmth on all sides. He scrunches up his face keeping his eyes closed as he tries to figure out what woke him up exactly, since his usual alarm isn’t blaring in the background. He’s about to slip back off to sleep, deciding it doesn't really matter, when an imperious finger pokes his nose. “Nicky Mouse?” is the hissed whisper. “Are you awake?” 

Peeling open one eye, he blinks as he finds himself nose to nose with two faces framed by curls. Last night comes back to him. Joe, tired and adorably clingy insisting on cuddles and Nicky determining that he would stay until Joe slipped off to sleep. He wasn’t expecting how much he had _missed_ being in Joe’s arms, and how tired he was himself. Before he knew it, he had passed out. 

Thank god he didn’t have a shift last night or he would be making apology lasagnas for a week. _“Morning cuccioli,”_ Nicky mumbles. 

_“You’ve never slept over in Baba’s bed before Nicky!”_ Basim observes helpfully.

 _“Does this mean you’re finally moving in?”_ Amani asks.

Nicky props up an elbow and leans his head on his open palm as he coaxes his brain to work. Fortunately, a distant part of him notes that they’re talking in Italian so he doesn’t have to translate on top of everything else. 

As he begins to wake further, Nicky feels a nose tickle the nape of his neck. In a sleep-fogged voice Joe murmurs something to Amani and Basim in what he guesses is Arabic, to which they respond in the same language. Nicky’s heart aches with the wish that he could reply in that tongue as well. “Morning hayati,” Joe eventually yawns, arms still wound around Nicky and holding him secure. Nicky’s heart flutters at the fact that Joe isn’t drawing away or panicking at the fact that Nicky is in his bed for the kids to see. Sinking back in the mattress, Nicky relishes the way Joe hums happily, nuzzling the back of his neck. “This is nice,” he whispers. 

Nicky is about to agree when two mini humans climb on top of him. Releasing a breathless laugh, Nicky turns on his back to blink up at the mischievous twins. _“Can I help you cuccioli?”_

“Pancakes?” 

Joe mutters several other things in Arabic before sitting up with a yawn. “Alright little monsters, I’m on it. Why don’t you brush your teeth and we’ll be right out?” While Amani and Basim climb off him allowing Nicky to thankfully breathe again, Joe turns to him, hair a mess but eyes slightly more alert. “Sorry if I made you stay the night,” he winces.

Humming, Nicky draws Joe into an embrace and lays them back down. “‘M gonna write up that apology contract,” he vows, nuzzling Joe’s ear. “Why would I be complaining about having the opportunity to sleep within the arms of the man I love and waking up to the prospect of eating his famous pancakes?”

Joe blinks at him, a bashful smile spreading across his face. “This is nice,” he agrees, tracing a finger along Nicky’s nose. Nicky crosses the final inch separating them and draws Joe into a kiss when two additional weights are once more added to the bed. 

“Babaaaaa pancakes!” Basim whines. 

“I think there is a word missing in that sentence, passerotto,” Nicky observes, turning to look at Basim with a raised brow. 

“Pleeeeaaaaasssssseeee,” is the choral response. 

Groaning, Joe pecks Nicky’s lips before rolling out of bed. “Alright little monsters, you win!” he declares. While Joe and the children race out of the room, Nicky watches them go with a besotted smile and a tender twist in his chest. This is what he wants his future to be. Getting woken up by two far too chipper children while being held by two strong, tender arms. He can only hope that one day this will become his daily reality. 

By the time he shuffles into the kitchen, Joe is already at the stove standing on one foot while he itches the back of his leg with the other. It’s such a mindless and simple action yet it has Nicky overcome with affection for this man. He blinks with bemusement at the rest of the sight in front of him though. Before he left the room Joe slipped on some basketball shorts but the shirt Nicky vividly recalls putting on him last night has disappeared and is replaced with his apron. 

While their father starts on the pancakes, Amani and Basim are dutifully setting the table and dancing to the music one of them has put on. With a sudden lurch of excitement at the reminder that he has permission to do so, Nicky beelines straight to Joe and wraps his arms around him with a hum. Joe stiffens before immediately relaxing into Nicky’s embrace with a smile. “You seem to have lost your shirt,” Nicky observes with amusement, kissing the side of Joe’s neck. 

“I got hot last night, took it off while I was still mostly asleep,” Joe explains, flipping a pancake in the shape of a heart. 

Nicky releases a hum, knowing without a doubt that he would be content to remain here for the rest of the day. “Yesterday was fun.” 

Joe turns in Nicky’s arms with a smile. “I’m glad.” Nudging Nicky’s nose Joe whispers against his lips, “It was nice. Having you beside me covered in rainbow.” Nicky’s grin is swallowed by Joe’s kiss. “And it was _really_ nice,” Joe breathes, “waking up beside you.”

“I was certainly not complaining,” Nicky whispers, gazing into Joe’s warm brown eyes. 

Before he can get up the nerve to ask if they could have a repeat of last night in the future- no expectations just cuddling- he’s interrupted by a familiar kitchen appliance pressing against his leg. “Special juice Nicky Mouse?” Amani asks hopefully. 

Stepping away from Joe’s embrace, Nicky props his hands on his hips and raises his brow expectedly. “I believe there is still a word missing in that sentence, sì?” He prompts.

Sticking out her lower lip Amani says, “Pleeeeaaaase?” 

“Incorrigible,” Nicky huffs out with a grin, accepting the blender and moving to the counter. 

Navigating through the kitchen is easy, a touch of the hip and a peck on the cheek as they shift around each other. Nicky can’t help but dream of future mornings like this. How wonderful it would be. 

When they finally sit down and Nicky looks at his pancakes, he feels a sense of deja vu, flashing back to that lovely snow day. Except this time, there is one distinct difference. “What was that for?” Nicky asks with a grin when Joe sweeps in for a kiss. 

“Cause I can,” Joe responds with a wink. And oh, how can Nicky resist that? As he leans in for another kiss, Nicky releases a happy sigh. Joe’s lips are syrupy and his breath smells of coffee and it couldn’t be more perfect. 

While the four of them dig into their breakfast, they talk about the parade, Basim and Amani gushing about the amount of rainbow they saw on every side. “Thank you for being so understanding yesterday,” Joe murmurs, hooking their pinkies together. Nicky bites his cheek to prevent himself from mentioning that the fact that they were together was a not so open secret.

“Of course love,” he says instead. 

Once breakfast is all cleared, it’s decided that it’s a perfect day for a walk to the park. While Amani latches onto Joe, Basim sticks to Nicky’s side, making his heart lurch. Amani and Basim spend the walk planning what they’ll do once they get to their destination while Nicky and Joe listen to them and pipe in with their occasional suggestions. The moment they reach the playground, Nicky and Joe are abandoned to their amusement. Knowing when they’re not wanted, both men settle on a bench, Joe throwing his arm around Nicky’s shoulder as they contentedly watch the children. Occasionally they fill the silence with idle chatter, but for the most part they soak up each other’s company, basking in the joy of simply being together. 

At one point Amani and Basim encounter another child their age, and though Basim is initially reluctant, eventually the three of them engage in the sort of game that is illogical to adults but completely understandable to children. “Are they yours?” a woman wearing an orange and white hijab and simple dress asks, coming up to their bench. 

“Yes,” Joe says while Nicky stutters out, “Well, they’re his- well their mother is-” before he clamps his mouth shut. 

The woman glances between them with bemusement before remarking, “They’re very sweet. Hakim had been playing on his own all morning before they approached him.” 

Nicky watches as Joe’s chest puffs out with pride. “Thank you,” he says brightly, before standing and reaching out his hand. “Joe,” he adds by way of introduction. 

“Zahra,” she replies with a nod before turning to Nicky. 

Jumping to his feet in a burst of nervousness, Nicky stretches out his hand with a strained smile. “Nicky.” 

Shooting him a polite smile, Zahra settles onto the bench beside them. “What are your children’s names?” she asks, glancing at both of them. 

Nicky swallows nervously before turning to Joe. Joe looks at him questioningly before taking his hand and squeezing it. “Amani and Basim,” he replies, studying Nicky’s eyes before looking back at Zahra with a charming smile. 

“How old are they?” 

“Six,” he says. “What about Hakim?”

“He’ll be seven in August,” she hums. Joe and Zahra continue their idle chatter while Nicky sits between them like a stiff rod, only the feel of Joe’s hand within his sweaty palm keeping him from flying into a full panic. 

Eventually, Zahra checks her phone before jumping up. “We have to go but could we perhaps exchange numbers to arrange a potential playdate?” Nicky turns to where Basim is laughing as Hakim chases him around the slide while Amani seems to be calling out orders from the top of the structure. He smiles softly. Yes, this certainly seems like a friendship in the making. When Zahra calls for Hakim there is a chorus of complaints, only placated with the promise of setting up a playdate soon. 

Once they’re gone, Joe turns to Nicky, face twisted with anxiety. “Did it bother you? Her calling them your kids?” he asks, scooting to make distance between them and studying Nicky’s face closely. 

Nicky’s eyes widen and he snatches up Joe’s hands. “Of course not Yusuf!” he exclaims before biting his lip. “I thought it would upset you.” Averting his eyes he murmurs, “I don’t want to erase Monique.” 

“Oh hayati,” Joe sighs, and Nicky makes a distant note to look up what that word means. Drawing Nicky closer until his head is resting on Joe’s shoulder, Joe kisses his forehead. “Nothing could erase Monique, but telling the whole story of my relationship history may be a bit much for complete strangers, don’t you think?” 

Nicky releases a huff of self-deprecating laughter, feeling his face heat. “Perhaps.” Turning to press their foreheads together Nicky whispers, “What should I say then? Next time someone inevitably assumes they’re my kids too?” 

It’s Joe’s turn to avert his gaze now. He watches Amani and Basim race up the structure before shrugging. “I mean…” he clears his throat. “You don’t need to say they’re your kids but if someone assumes I suppose you can just say thanks?” Nicky’s heart skips a beat at this admission, at the permission to act like Basim and Amani are his, even if it is for simplicity’s sake. “That is...if you don’t mind?” Joe adds with an awkward shrug. 

Nicky turns to watch Amani and Basim, the familiar rush of affection and protectiveness and love surging through him. “No, I wouldn’t mind at all,” he murmurs. 

*******

In the end, it’s decided that Nicky would stay back for the trip to the Netherlands, despite Amani and Basim’s protests. Joe and Nicky both agreed that traveling out of the country and meeting the parents...it was a big step, and considering they spend nearly every day together, some distance could be good, healthy even. 

Joe has never regretted a decision more. Apparently Amani and Basim can hold a grudge, a terrible indication of what their teenage years might be like. And if their pouting faces weren’t enough, Joe’s stupid heart hasn’t left him alone. He feels like a bloody Victorian heroine pining for her lover across the sea. It’s ridiculous. 

All this to say, they don’t last three days before a video call is set up. Fortunately, all it takes is Joe caving for his little monsters to forgive him and cuddle right up to his side. And if Joe isn’t reading too much into the speed Nicky responded to his suggestion, the kids aren’t the only ones looking forward to the call. 

When Nicky’s face appears on the screen, Joe’s heart skips a beat and he can’t help beaming. Astaghfurallah it hasn’t even been a week- pull yourself together al-Kaysani! 

“Hello cuccioli! Hello Yusuf!” Nicky waves. Immediately, Amani and Basim begin chattering to Nicky in Italian and Joe finds himself lost not too soon after. He’ll definitely need to start catching up to his little monsters if he wants to have any hope in understanding the conversations they have. Nicky responds to the children in kind and they chat for a few minutes, seemingly practicing some sentences while Joe is content to let the melodic language rush over him. 

Eventually however, Nicky turns to Joe. _”And how are you?”_

Joe straightens and grins from ear to ear. “That was perfect Nicolò!” he enthuses, fawning over Nicky’s bashful smile and heart thrumming at the sound of his first language coming from those lips.

“Do you miss us Nicky Mouse?” Amani asks. “We miss you.” 

Nicky’s smile softens and he reaches out as though in an effort to touch them. “With all my heart patatina,” he says fervently. Joe swallows at the sincerity in Nicky’s voice. He really loves them. Abruptly he flashes back to a few weeks ago, when Zahra made the assumption that Nicky is their father as well. He wasn’t expecting how such a comment would make him feel, the fluttering in his stomach and surge in his heart. Suddenly he hadn’t wanted anything more than for Nicky to call Amani and Basim his own. It took all his effort to shove down his panic in order to hold a conversation with Zahra after witnessing Nicky’s reaction to being assumed their father. The relief he felt after Nicky clarified the reason for his hesitance was like a rush of cool water on a summer's day, soothing and vital. 

Tuning back to the present, Joe smiles as Amani and Basim catch Nicky up on everything they’ve been up to over the past three days, how they entertained themselves on the plane, the places their grandparents have taken them, even the food they ate. Nicky, bless his heart, listens with an interest and attentiveness that Joe can’t help but think is genuine. 

Eventually Basim and Amani run out of things to catch Nicky up on and, lured by the promise of sweets that their grandparents spoil them with, flounce away. Once it’s just Joe and Nicky, they look at each other with shy smiles. “Hi,” Joe says. 

“Hi,” is Nicky’s response before they release awkward chuckles. 

Settling more firmly on the couch, Joe draws his knees up so the computer moves closer to his face. “Is it ridiculous to say that I miss you?” 

“I don’t think so since I feel the same,” Nicky replies with a crooked smile. 

Groaning, Joe leans forward until his forehead is pressing against the computer screen in a mockery of their usual exchange. “Wish you were here,” he whispers. 

“You just wish that so you had someone to tap in when your cuccioli got restless on the flight,” Nicky teases. 

Drawing away with a laugh and drinking up the mirth lighting up Nicky’s eyes, the smile dancing on his lips, Joe raises his hands. “Guilty as charged.” They both fall silent for a long moment, just looking at each other with matching foolish grins. 

“We made the right decision,” Nicky finally murmurs. “We’ve been so entwined it’s good to see what our feelings are like when we put some distance between us.” 

“And?” Joe whispers. “What are your feelings telling you?” 

Nicky’s smile turns rueful. “That I want nothing more than to be by your side while you attempt to wrangle two rambunctious twins on a 9 hour flight.” 

“Well,” Joe huffs out, ducking his head. “Maybe next time?” 

When Nicky smiles fully Joe swears it’s like the sun is shining through him. “Yes,” he hums, eyes bright and hopeful. “Next time.” 

As Joe closes his computer a few minutes later with a forlorn sigh, he’s greeted with the sight of his mother, her lips curled in an amused smile as she sits primly at the kitchen table. _“Hi Mama,”_ Joe gulps, fidgeting with his necklace. _“How long have you been sitting there exactly?”_

_“Long enough to know it’s time for us to have a talk,”_ she replies with a raised brow. All it takes is a tilt of her head and Joe is dragging his feet towards the table, slouching into it while she pushes a cup of tea towards him, steaming and ready for him to drink. 

As he breathes in the mint before taking a fortifying sip, Joe watches his mother warily. _“Where are the kids?”_ he asks. 

_“Your baba has taken them adventuring,”_ is the vague reply. Mentally groaning, because he knows that means they’ll be returning muddy and on a sugar high, Joe resigns himself to an interrogation. _“So,”_ she hums. _“Nicky.”_

_"Yes,”_ Joe replies with a stoic nod. _“Nicky.”_ Leila simply arches her brow causing Joe to thump his head on the table. _“What do you want me to say Mama?”_ he moans. 

With a hum, Leila removes Joe’s hat so she can stroke through his curls. _“I want you to say what’s on your heart,”_ she replies. 

Joe releases a long sigh and remains there, soaking in his mother’s soothing fingers, the familiar scent of jasmine wafting through the room. Squeezing his eyes tightly, Joe breathes out, _“I love him. Allah, I love him so much Mama and it terrifies me.”_

 _“Oh habibi,”_ Leila simply sighs, kissing the top of Joe’s head. They remain there in silence until their tea grows cold, Joe’s mind and heart a tumultuous storm that he futilely tries to reign in. 

Eventually, he lifts his head enough to whisper, _“I haven’t told him yet. Not in so many words. Every time I try-”_ his throat clicks shut. 

Leila smiles at him softly and Joe’s heart steadies in the face of her eyes, warm and familiar and comforting. _“They are just words Yusuf. I saw the way you look at him, the way you speak to him. The words will come, but they’re not necessary.”_ She reaches a hand out and Joe grasps it, squeezing it tightly to help ground himself. _“Will you tell me about him? Patricia has informed me he’s a decent cook but that’s it.”_ Joe mentally groans. Of course Patricia has been gossiping about them. It’s moments like these he wishes that Patricia and his mother didn’t get along quite so well. 

Joe racks his brain at where to start, his file on the reasons he loves Nicky disorganized and overflowing. Finally, he smiles softly. _”You’ll be happy to know that you can see my kitchen table now. He’s introduced us to the concept of storage.”_ As his mum releases a tinkling laugh, Joe rises to make them some fresh tea while regaling her with the tale of Nicky’s campaign to teach Joe the ways of organization.

*******

When Joe, Amani, and Basim arrive back to the states two weeks later, they’re greeted with a five star meal. Amani and Basim don’t let Nicky out of their sight, insisting on sitting next to him and helping clean up after dinner so they can stay in the same room. Joe watches with warmth spreading through his every pore as Amani and Basim curl up to Nicky that night, begging he read them at least five books to make up for all the nights he couldn’t put them to bed. Nicky shoots Joe an amused look before obliging them while Joe listens with a besotted smile, his sketchbook in his lap as he draws the heartwarming tableau before him. 

Nicky doesn’t make it through the third book before they’re fast asleep, tiny arms wrapped around his like they’re afraid he’ll slip away. It takes some careful maneuvering to get them into bed without waking them up, but with Joe’s help they manage it eventually. 

As usual, Joe and Nicky gravitate to the living room afterwards but instead of settling on the couch they face each other silently. Joe drinks up the figure of the man he missed like a phantom limb; his sparkling eyes framed by the baggy hoodie Nicky stole from Joe because he runs cold, his disgusting cargo shorts and mismatching socks...Allah he missed this beautiful man. 

Wordlessly, they come together in a crash of lips and limbs, raking fingers through hair and down backs as they reacquaint themselves with each other. Joe moans into the kiss, melting as Nicky tugs on his hair just right and biting Nicky’s lip to hear him groan. Blood is rushing down to his groin and as he presses close he can feel Nicky’s answering hardness and it’s like a splash of cold water. 

Jolting away, Joe grits his teeth with frustration. He stares at Nicky as the other man works to catch his breath, eyes dark and wanting and hair sticking on end. “Sorry,” Joe winces, breathing heavily. “I’m just not there yet.” 

A beat, and then Nicky slowly bridges the gap to draw Joe into a gentle kiss, all the heat from earlier gone. “What have I said about apologies?” he breathes, their lips brushing together as he speaks. 

“This seems to warrant an apology,” Joe protests, drawing away to gesture at Nicky’s obvious arousal. 

Crossing his arms Nicky sticks his chin out. “Here’s the plan. I’m going to take a long cold shower and when I’m done you’ll do the same. Then we’re gonna curl up on this couch and you’ll tell me all the ridiculous things you three got up to during your trip, we’ll watch an episode of the Great British Bake Off so you can laugh while I rant in Italian, and then we’ll go to bed. To _sleep.”_

“Together?” Joe whispers.

Nick’s expression softens. “If you’d like.” 

Relief washing over him, Joe draws Nicky into a tight hug. “Missed you,” he breathes, closing his eyes. _Why_ did they think two weeks apart was a good idea?

“As did I amore mio,” Nicky whispers before drawing away with a rueful smile. “Now I’m gonna go take that shower. And I expect a full report when I come back.” Joe releases a low chuckle as Nicky retreats, and as he sprawls onto the couch and revels in how lucky he is, he tries valiantly not to imagine what Nicky might be doing in the shower. He’s not too successful.

*******

Nicky storms off to his car, a cloud of fury hanging over his head. That pompous self-righteous bastard. Slamming the door behind him, he grips the wheel tightly before forcing himself to take some steady breaths. He shouldn’t drive angry, especially at this hour. While he works to calm his breathing, Nicky is gripped with dread at the concept of going back to his empty apartment. He needs solid arms, welcoming warmth, soft curls. He needs to forget about asshole customers that Andy would have thrown out without hesitation if she was there. 

Nicky taps his wheel contemplatively. Since that incidental time after Pride, he has stayed the night whenever he doesn’t have a shift. It’s made it harder and harder to sleep when he does work though. And the concept of going to an empty bed now...No. he can’t. 

This would be the first time he would stay the night without checking in with Joe but he can’t help it. He needs to be selfish tonight. Turning his car on now that he’s calmer and has a direction, Nicky drives to Joe’s place on autopilot. Once he’s there he creeps through the apartment, knowing its residents will be fast asleep at this hour. 

When he creaks open Joe’s door, he has to pause for a moment to take in the tableau he's faced with. Joe is curled around a pillow, holding it secure like he does Nicky every night he's lucky enough to stay over. His duvet has been kicked to the floor, only a thin sheet covering his legs. The rest of him is bared to the moonlight, his shirtless chest and tight briefs making Nicky’s mouth water. Firmly telling his cock that this is not the time, Nicky peels off his shirt and trousers with relieved satisfaction. In nothing but his boxers, Nicky gently slips under the covers before eradicating the pillow and sliding in its place. Joe stiffens, nose nuzzling Nicky’s neck before rasping out, “Nico?” 

Turning in his arms, Nicky shoots him a sheepish smile. “Sorry to wake you. Had a shit shift and needed you.” 

Joe releases a hum before drawing Nicky into a sleepy kiss. “Should just move in,” he mumbles, eyes already closing once more. “Then you can always come home after a shit shift.” While Nicky gapes at Joe, his suggestion bouncing through his brain and making his heart throb, the love of his life releases a happy snuffle and falls back to sleep. Nicky remains awake for a long while, shock and hope and apprehension that Joe will take it back in the morning filling him with far too much adrenaline. Eventually, Joe’s steady breaths ease the storm in Nicky’s chest until he relaxes in the arms that hold him so secure. Soon, from one blink to the next, he drifts off. 

The next morning Nicky is up early, still wired from Joe’s comment last night as he makes an omelette. He startles as two warm arms wrap around him before he relaxes immediately. _”Good morning Nico,”_ Joe mumbles. Nicky grins at the fact that he knows exactly what Joe said. Though Amani and Basim have been dedicated tutors, he’s been getting some extra sessions from Joe that have proven beneficial. 

_”Good morning my love,”_ he replies. 

Humming, Joe nuzzles the nape of Nicky’s neck. “We should have a rule. No English until coffee,” he yawns. 

Nicky smiles softly. “I like this idea,” he remarks. 

Joe shifts, stepping to the side and leaning against the counter so he can catch Nicky’s eye. “Speaking of ideas,” he bites his lip, and Nicky’s heart immediately starts to speed up. “I find that when you don’t stay the night a pillow is a poor substitute.” Nicky huffs out a laugh at the reminder of the image that greeted him last night. Joe plays with the spatula on the counter before flicking his gaze up to meet Nicky’s. “Would you be interested in moving in?” he finally asks, eyes timid. 

The breath Nicky hadn’t even realised he was holding is released all at once and, forgetting the omelette, he surges towards Joe and draws him into a desperate kiss. Gripping him close as though he fears he’ll slip away, Nicky pours his love, his relief, his _ecstasy_ into every flick of a tongue, every bite of teeth, ever brush of lips. 

When they finally draw away to catch their breath, Joe’s eyes are dark and hungry, his lips red and puffy. “I’ll take that as a yes?” he rasps. Nicky just shoots him a loopy smile and Joe responds in kind before his eyes widen, gaze landing on something behind him. “Um. I think your omelette’s burning.” Yelping, Nicky turns back to his cooking in a desperate effort to salvage it. 

This turns out to be a futile task but for once, Nicky can’t bring himself to care. 

*******

When Amani and Basim learn the news, they’re utterly ecstatic and immediately jump to help Nicky move. Of course, given the fact that they’re six, Nicky scrambles for what jobs to actually give them. Ultimately, he leaves them the task of organising his books, a decision he will later learn to regret when he faces the living room. For now, he’s too busy arguing with Joe over his wardrobe. 

“You know I don’t care how you look, Nicolò, you _know_ I think you look sexy no matter how baggy your clothes are but _please,”_ Joe begs, shaking Nicky’s cargo pants. “Please burn these.” 

Nicky crosses his arms, tilting his chin obstinately. “They are functional and convenient and I won’t apologise for it.” 

Joe releases a groan, pressing the pants to his face before lowering them with those doe eyes Nicky has been trying to work up an immunity to. “I’ll do anything Nico! I’ll- I’ll-” Joe searches for something before his face brightens. “I’ll start making my bed! Yes, I will make my bed everyday if you will just let me burn every one of your cargo pants.” 

Joe bites down on his victorious smile as Nicky’s eyes narrow in contemplation, his fingers tapping on his crossed arm. “You’ll make _our_ bed every day,” Nicky muses, putting emphasis on that key word. 

Joe grins at the reminder. “Yep! I’ll even fluff the pillows!” Joe pipes up. They stand there for a tense moment, Nicky putting a show on deciding when Joe already knows the answer. Nicky can’t resist the potentiality of Joe actually being organised for once. 

Finally he nods, taking a step forward with his arm out. “Deal,” he decides. Instead of shaking the proffered hand, Joe claims those tempting lips. 

“Sealed with a kiss,” Joe says with a smile, delighting in Nicky’s twitching lips before he draws Joe back for another. 

After that, the rest of the moving process is painless. It turns out Nicky doesn’t have too many things and is willing to sell all his furniture rather than find a place for it in the apartment. His calligraphy supplies find a home in Joe’s art bin while he replaces several of Joe’s cooking utensils with his own, claiming his are better quality. Joe lets it happen with an amused huff, knowing better than to step on Nicky’s toes when it comes to the kitchen. When they take a look at the overflowing bookshelf that Amani and Basim have valiantly attempted to stuff with Nicky’s books, it’s decided that Nicky’s bookshelf may be a useful addition to the apartment though. 

And in the space of one weekend, Nicky has officially moved in. To celebrate, Amani and Basim make their second attempt at a cake with Nicky’s assistance, and this one is thankfully more edible than the last. Their announcement in the group chat is greeted with a congratulations from Nile and Quỳnh, an “about time” from Andy, and an “I thought you idiots were already living together” from Booker. So that went well too. 

Nicky’s first night moved in, Joe can’t stop kissing him. “I get to have you in my arms _every night_ now,” Joe whispers between kisses. 

“No more cuddling pillows,” Nicky remarks with amusement. 

“Only when you have a shift but I’ll know that eventually it’ll be replaced with the real thing,” Joe hums happily, snuggling into Nicky’s arms. While Nicky strokes lines down Joe’s back, Joe works to smother the underlying arousal he feels at being pressed chest to chest with Nicky. It’ll certainly be more difficult having Nicky in his arms every night but Joe knows he’s still not ready for that step. And Nicky, sweet patient understanding Nicky, only watches on with amusement whenever Joe slips out of bed to take a cold shower. Heart pounding with elation that he can look forward to waking up in the arms of this wonderful man every morning, Joe kisses his shoulder before relaxing in his embrace. “I-” he swallows. 

“I love you too, tesoro,” Nicky whispers, kissing Joe’s cheek. Nuzzling Nicky’s neck Joe says the words in his head, over and over and over in the hope that Nicky can sense it, can somehow hear it. One day. One day those words will cross his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm torn about posting this chapter because it feels kinda disjointed and not too great? Idk, but I welcome any feedback if you'd like to share <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe and Nicky learn a valuable lesson about shopping. A certain three word phrase slips out, and what’s a summer vacation without a swim?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I be doing work? Yes! Am I ignoring my responsibilities because all of your comments last chapter filled me with so much gratitude and motivation and confidence I was overflowing with inspiration? Absolutely! Thank you all from the bottom of my heart, I truly appreciate every word and comment <3
> 
> This chapter has two moments that I know a lot of you were waiting for and I really hope it lives up to expectations!  
> Just a warning that we got some super implied sexual content here- I don't think I would call it explicit but it's prob mature? If you want to avoid it, skip from "Once the door is shut, Joe draws Nicky into a languid kiss, backing up until he hits the bed" to "Once they’re cleaned up, Nicky lets Joe resume his clinging, humming and stroking Joe’s hair until he’s near purring."
> 
> Happy reading!

It turns out that not much changes when Nicky moves in, considering he had already been spending the majority of his days at the apartment. However, there is one key change: Joe gets to have him in his bed _every night._ That’s exactly where they are currently, Joe beneath Nicky as they kiss languidly. They’ve been working up to this, Joe getting used to feeling someone else under him, over him. He’s about to hit pause, needing to get his bearings after they've gone further than before, when the door creaks open. 

“Baba?” Rolling out from under Nicky immediately, Joe turns on the bedside lamp to find Basim standing in the doorway, his ragged stuffed rabbit that’s missing an ear clutched to his chest. The one and only time Joe suggested they replace Rabbit (super creative name of course) it led to a full on crying fit. Joe knows better now. 

“What’s wrong habibi?” Joe whispers, gesturing for Basim to come closer. Immediately, Basim hurries towards him and clambers onto the bed, curling into Joe’s arms. Joe holds him tightly, stroking through his hair until his precious boy finds his words. He knows it can be hard to find them sometimes. 

“Bad dream Baba,” Basim eventually sniffs. 

“Oh my poor boy,” Joe croons, pressing a kiss to Basim’s forehead. He swallows, glancing over to Nicky but he’s relieved to see that the other man is only wearing a matching worried expression, scooted close so he can reach out and stroke down Basim’s back. “Would you like to sleep here for now my love?” Joe asks. When Basim nods into Joe’s chest, he lowers them both down into bed, shooting Nicky an apologetic smile. Nicky only tilts his head in response before following them down. With his boy in his arms, Joe creakily sings some of Basim’s favourite lullabies, ignoring how Rabbit is slightly shoved into his face as he does. Eventually, Basim grows limp in his arms, his breath evening out. 

When he’s certain that Basim is asleep, he turns to Nicky, enchanting eyes glowing in the lamplight. “Sorry,” Joe whispers. 

Nicky raises a brow. “That’s one more tally towards me getting a new pair of cargo pants,” he remarks. Joe groans quietly; he should never have revealed his weakness against Nicky’s atrocious fashion sense. Nicky has finally made good on his threats surrounding Joe’s apologies and they now have a little chalkboard in their room. Five apologies equals one new pair of cargo pants that will make an appearance in their dresser. That apology will be giving Nicky a fourth tally. 

“I just know that this isn’t what you signed up for,” Joe protests helplessly. “It’s a bit of a mood killer.” 

Nicky shoots him a flat look. “I signed up for living with a wonderful man and his two marvelous children. If you thought I didn’t expect that we would be interrupted by our first priorities then you have sorely underestimated me.” Joe winces, realising that Nicky’s right. He feels the apology on the tip of his tongue when he spots the victorious smirk creeping across Nicky’s face. No- he won’t give that man the satisfaction. 

“I should warn you,” Joe says instead, “they have a sixth sense when it comes to one of them being upset.”

As if on cue, another figure appears in their doorway. Rubbing her eyes with a yawn while her bear (named Bear) that’s missing a nose dangles from one hand, Amani murmurs, “Basi?” 

“C’mon patatina, we’re having a sleepover,” Nicky calls to her in a hushed whisper, making Joe’s heart clench. 

A sleepy smile spreads across Amani’s face before she shuffles over to the bed and crawls in next to Nicky. Placing the arm clutching Bear across Nicky’s chest, Amani snuggles against Nicky’s side. He stares down at her for a long moment before gently wrapping an arm around her so she’s secure against his chest. “Night Nicky Mouse. Night Baba,” she mumbles before drifting off. 

Nicky turns to Joe, eyes wide and brimming with emotion. Joe smiles softly at him, heart so full of love he’s speechless. Straining so as not to disturb Basim, Joe switches off the light. “Good night Nico. I-” he pauses, but as he does he feels the words closer to his tongue than ever before. 

A hand brushes across his cheek. “Love you too, tesoro.” 

The next morning, Basim is feeling much better, a night with his baba fortunately chasing his demons away. As they’re sitting around the table for breakfast, Joe sipping on his coffee in an effort to wake his brain up while Basim and Amani plan what they want to do today, Nicky cuts in. “I was wondering if we could spend some time at a pool,” he suggests. “Summer’s almost over and the days will soon grow cool.” Joe freezes with his cup halfway to his lips while his children look up with excitement burning in their eyes. 

“Can we Baba?” Amani asks, bouncing in her seat. 

“Pleaaasseeee?” Basim begs. 

Joe shoots them a strained smile before turning to Nicky. “Can I talk to you for a moment Nicky?” he asks stiffly. “In private?” Nicky frowns before standing and following Joe to the bedroom. 

He closes the door behind him before leaning against it, waiting for Joe as he paces around the room. “In the future I would prefer if you would run things like that by me Nicky,” Joe grits out, his pacing speeding up as he speaks. “They’ve never gone swimming! It’s- it’s _dangerous_ and you never know what can happen and I can’t- I can’t-” 

Part of him realises that his breath is coming out in pants but he can’t stop himself, pacing growing quicker until he turns and runs into a solid chest. “Breathe for me Yusuf, breathe,” is the firm command. Joe gasps, eyes wild as he stares into Nicky’s placid orbs. Nicky grasps Joe's shoulders before taking a deep breath through his nose and blowing out through his mouth exaggeratedly. Joe’s eyes train on Nicky’s mouth, matching his speed and motion until his heart rate slows down. “There you go,” Nicky nods, rubbing his hands along Joe’s arms. Once he feels like he can take a full breath, Joe finds himself guided to the bed. 

He sits down on it mechanically while Nicky kneels on the floor, clutching Joe’s hands. “I’m so sorry Yusuf,” Nicky says, eyes sorrowful. “They had both been begging me to go for awhile now and I wrongly assumed that they had gone before. I should have ran it by you first.” 

Joe hangs his head with a tired sigh. “Of course they were.” He focuses on the feel of Nicky’s hands in his, focuses on his breathing as he braces himself. Raising his head Joe slumps. “It’s not fair to keep them from the water forever. I love to swim and used to dream of teaching them. And then…” he trails off. 

Nicky squeezes his hands. “It’s a good thing you’re with someone who grew up by the sea and who’s also been trained as a lifeguard then, si?” Joe gapes at Nicky as his eyes twinkle and a smile plays on his lips. “I’ve told you that I’ve done several odd jobs over the years,” he shrugs. “Lifeguarding is just one of many.” 

Joe licks his lips, suddenly having a very vivid visual flash through his mind. “Does this mean that you own a pair of red swim trunks?” he asks with what he hopes is a sultry grin but probably is a weak imitation of one, still riding off his earlier panic. 

Nicky rolls his eyes before rising. “Ridiculous man,” he grins. 

Amani and Basim are ecstatic of course when Joe caves. But then comes the tricky part: picking out swimsuits. Amani bites her lip, turning between the ice cream, Moana, and Paw Patrol suits as they stand in the middle of the store. Basim is having similar luck, fluctuating between the whale, Paw Patrol, and pineapple ones. “Please cuccioli,” Nicky begs while Joe scrubs his face, “Just...close your eyes and pick?” He huffs out an incredulous laugh at the matching appalled expressions shot his way before Amani and Basim turn back to their deliberation. But it’s been 15 minutes and he fears the store will close at this rate before they decide. 

Then something miraculous happens. Amani and Basim put their heads together and discuss in lowered voices before nodding. They then switch spots so Amani is in front of Basim’s choices and vise versa. Shifting the options so they can’t see each other’s, both children sit and stare at the swimsuits for a prolonged moment. Joe and Nicky shoot each other hopeful glances. Could this be it? 

“Ready?” Amani eventually calls, picking up her choice.

“Uh huh,” is Basim’s contemplative reply.

“One...two...three!” Both children turn as one before beaming at each other. “Paw Patrol!” they both exclaim before hugging one another. 

Joe drops his forehead on Nicky’s shoulder, frame shaking with barely contained laughter. Nicky rolls his eyes to the heavens as he does. Of course they picked those, he could have predicted it. “Next time, we’re doing this without them,” Joe wheezes. 

“Do you _want_ a mutiny?” Nicky asks wryly, wrapping an arm around him. This just seems to amplify Joe’s mirth. 

With their celebratory hug over, Basim and Amani gravitate towards the swimming floaties. Joe groans. “Quick, before they notice, go choose the towels so we escape this place in the next hour,” Joe hisses. 

Quirking his lips in amusement, Nicky pecks Joe’s cheek. “Aye aye captain,” he quips. 

Fortunately, it’s easy to track down two Paw Patrol towels, though he does hesitate at the Moana ones before snagging two of those as well. Better safe than sorry. Choosing some brightly coloured striped ones for him and Joe, Nicky wanders into the men’s swimsuit aisle next. He pauses at a row of bright red swim trunks before grinning, recalling the look Joe shot him when Nicky revealed he was a lifeguard. Unable to resist the temptation, Nicky plucks one from the rack before wandering through the rest of the selection in search of a suit for Joe. 

He swallows dryly as he scans through the options, suddenly realising that he will soon be faced with a bare-chested Joe wearing nothing but swim trunks. Oh dear, what has he gotten himself into? He’s half-tempted to choose the ugliest pair he can find out of self-preservation, especially since the horrified expression Joe would shoot him is sure to be hilarious. 

Decided, Nicky plucks a pair of tan trunks before heading back to the children’s section. When he gets there, Joe looks like he’s regretting several life decisions while Amani and Basim have six options laid out. Nicky shakes his head with a huff of laughter. Oddio, this is turning into a long day. 

Nicky’s despair is wiped away however when Joe turns and sets his eyes on Nicky’s selection. “Please Nico,” he says in a strained voice, “Please tell me you aren’t buying that atrocious crime against fashion you are holding in your right hand.” 

Nicky turns to the tan trunks, feigning surprise. “Of course not caro!” he exclaims, pausing to watch Joe’s slump with relief before adding cheerfully, “They’re for you!” 

He can’t help his amused grin as Joe begins sputtering, mouth opening and closing several times as he points to Nicky before he finally finds his words and declares, “You’re an evil evil man.” 

Imitating Joe’s endearing response when Nicky calls him ridiculous, Nicky saunters up to him and croons, “An evil man you loooove.” 

Joe’s composure lasts for one more moment before it cracks and he smiles helplessly. Drawing Nicky into a kiss he states with amusement tinging his words, “I love you but if you don’t put those back I will find that final pair of cargo pants you’ve hidden from me and gift it to Cow.” Nicky freezes, mouth gaping open and heart speeding up as he draws away. He said it. _Fuck,_ he said it. Joe’s eyes widen as well and he flicks his gaze to where his children are thankfully still in deep debate before he draws Nicky to the side, still in sight of them of course. Running nervous fingers through his hair Joe stutters out, “That’s not how I wanted to say it. I was planning to make it some dramatic and romantic declaration with roses and poetry and-” 

Nicky can’t help himself. He cuts Joe off with a gentle kiss, pouring his love, affection, elation, and helpless amusement into it. When they break apart Nicky shoots him a besotted smile. “I don’t need any of that Joe. I don’t need poetry or flowery words.” Pressing their foreheads together he whispers, “I only need you.” 

Joe stares at him, eyes burning with the emotion he has finally named before he licks his lips and whispers, “I love you Nico. Fuck, I love you so much. You’re- you’re- my moon and my guiding light and-”

“Baba we made our choice!” Amani calls. Nicky’s lips twitch as Joe looks crestfallen at the prospect of being interrupted. Placing his hands on either side of Nicky’s head Joe says fervently, “I love you Nicolò.” 

Nicky takes a shaky breath. He’s known that Joe loves him, of course he’s known. Those three simple words shouldn’t be affecting him so much but...shit. Heart beating out of control, Nicky allows a watery smile to spread across his face. “I love you too.” 

*******

When the kids are put to bed, Joe drags Nicky to the couch, _their_ couch and kneels down in front of him. Clutching his hands, Joe gazes up at Nicky who is smiling softly at him. “I love you Nicky di Genova,” he declares, heart beating as the words that have been trapped in his throat like a caged bird fly free. “I could paint a thousand paintings and write a hundred poems of my love and none of it would suffice. You are my moon, my guiding light. You are the warmest of blankets when I’m cold and the coolest of streams when I’m hot and my guiding compass when I'm lost and my gravity when I can’t find the ground.”

He takes a shaky breath. “When I lost Monique I thought I lost my ability to love again.” Joe swallows, wiping away a tear that drifts down Nicky’s cheek. “I didn’t plan for you,” he whispers. “I didn’t plan to love you. But how could I not?” 

Joe releases a short laugh as he’s tugged up and into Nicky’s lap before greedy lips snatch his laughter away. Shuddered breaths are exchanged as they kiss slowly, reverently. It’s not erotic, not sexual, just an affirmation. An affirmation of their love, an affirmation that says _yes, you. I found you._

They end up curled around each other on the couch an indefinite time later, a callback to those early days all those months ago. “You know, this couch has served us well,” Nicky hums as he mindlessly strokes through Joe’s hair. 

“Hmm,” is Joe’s response from where he’s pressed against Nicky’s chest in a puddle of warmth. 

Nicky huffs out a breath. “But I think our bed would serve us better, sì?” 

“No,” is his mumbled response. “Too comfy.” 

“Ridiculous man,” Nicky mutters with a smile, kissing Joe’s head before hefting him up. Joe releases a high yelp, clinging onto Nicky as he lugs him into their room. They both go sprawling onto the bed, warm laughter quieted by soft lips. Joe gets lost in Nicky’s consuming kisses for a while and finds his hands wandering before he pauses. No- he wants tonight to just be about his confession, the one he's worked so hard to dislodge from his throat. He took a big enough step today; he can take this one another time. 

Nicky must sense Joe’s hesitance because he slows his kisses down before scooting up on the bed. “It’s late,” he murmurs, stripping off his shorts and shirt. “And if today is any indication, tomorrow is gonna be exhausting. We could use our sleep.” 

Gratitude and affection and love surge through him and Joe quickly follows Nicky’s lead before crawling up the bed to wrap him in his arms. “I love you Nico,” he whispers in his ear, delighting in the tiny shiver he gets in response, thrilled at those words finally escaping his lips. 

Nicky turns in his arms so they’re face to face. Brushing his thumb down Joe’s cheek Nicky smiles so brightly it spreads warmth through his chest. “I love you too, Yusuf. With all my heart and soul.” 

*******

“Did you pack the first aid kit?” Joe calls out frantically, emerging from Amani and Basim’s room juggling changes of clothes, Bear, and Rabbit. 

“Yes but are you sure you want to bring those animals? I don't want them to get ruined,” Nicky warns from where he’s packing snacks. 

“They may need them!” Joe protests, eyes still wild. “If they get scared or get hurt or need comfort or-” 

Nicky strides over to Joe and cuts him off with a kiss. “Okay love, you convinced me,” he soothes. Joe relaxes slightly before gently placing Rabbit and Bear in their giant tote bag. Nicky shakes his head as he checks that their water bottles are full. Joe has been a mess of nerves all morning, and though it’s understandable Nicky is exhausted just watching him. Meanwhile, Basim and Amani are brimming with excitement, asking every minute if they can go already. 

Double checking that they have all the pool supplies, Nicky stands before gulping. He hadn’t fully taken in Joe’s outfit yet. Obviously they didn’t end up buying the tan trunks, Joe finding a blue and white striped pair that is far too flattering. And of course, he has a matching hat and sunglasses perched on his head while an honest to god _tank top_ is stretched across his chest. Cazzo, Nicky is not gonna survive this day. Joe glances up from where he’s triple checking that they have everything before smirking when he sees Nicky’s heated gaze. “See something you like?” he asks with a wink. 

“Your hat’s on crooked,” Nicky lies, grinning at Joe’s horrified face as he hurries to the nearest mirror. “Ready to go cuccioli?” he asks, turning to where Basim and Amani are watching the Paw Patrol pool episode, as if they needed to be more excited. Turning off the TV, both children jump off the couch before running to the door. “Hold on!” Nicky laughs, picking up the far too stuffed bag before following them. 

“You are such a liar,” Joe accuses into his ear a moment later, making Nicky shiver with delight. 

Flashing him a smile Nicky says innocently, “I don’t know what you mean.” 

It’s not until they load into the car and Nicky spots Joe’s white-knuckled grip on the wheel that Nicky realises that this is the first time he’ll be driving with Joe. The pool isn’t a reasonable walking distance away so it makes the most sense to drive but now Nicky is regretting that fact. Like Joe needed any more reason to be stressed. 

Nicky places a steady hand on Joe’s shoulder and waits for him to turn to him. Once they’re face to face Nicky draws Joe into a gentle kiss. “I’m right here. You’re okay. We’re gonna go nice and slow.” He can tell that his words don’t mean too much; after all, it wasn’t like Monique was driving recklessly when she was brutally t-boned. Nicky takes a slow breath. On a particularly emotional night, Joe told him about the crash, about the law suit and the settlement. Shaking the memories from his head, Nicky squeezes Joe’s hand. “I love you,” he says simply. 

Wide brown eyes holding far too much emotion stare back at him. “Love you too Nico,” Joe rasps. With a shaky breath and a furtive glance back at his kids playing with the toys they chose to bring with them, Joe shifts the car into gear. As he does so Nicky hooks his phone up to the bluetooth and selects the Moana soundtrack, grinning at Joe’s quiet groan and Basim and Amani’s gleeful cheers. 

The ride is fortunately uneventful, though Nicky has never witnessed a more cautious driver in his life. He can’t blame Joe for it of course. 

Once they get to the pool area, they claim four lounge chairs before sitting Amani and Basim down for a serious safety talk. Both children listen solemnly, reading the seriousness in Joe and Nicky’s tone and expressions. Joe spends an inordinate amount of time checking Amani and Basim’s floaties before requesting that Nicky does the same as the “expert.” Of course, Joe had done an adequate job himself and soon after he checks them Nicky coaxes Joe towards the pool, holding Amani and Basim’s hands as they follow. 

The rest of the afternoon is spent mostly in the pool, and fortunately Nicky’s attention is so focused on Basim and Amani that he doesn’t have too many chances to ogle Joe. Amani and Basim take to swimming like naturals, fearless and bold as they kick and splash in the shallows. After about an hour in the water, Joe relaxes enough to start joking about his children being part fish, to Amani and Basim’s outraged protests. Nicky stays out of it, laughing as Basim and Amani attempt to chase after their father while Joe swims in slow motion to allow them to catch up. God, he loves this family so much. 

“Your kids are cute.” Nicky startles from where he’s lounging against the side of the pool, content to watch Joe guide Amani and Basim through their strokes. He turns to the man sitting on the pool’s edge with his feet gently treading the water. 

Recalling his conversation with Joe after they met Zahra and forcing his heart to behave as it beats faster at the fact that this man assumes Nicky is their father, he flashes him a small smile. “Thank you.” His smile turns into a full grin while he watches Joe sputter as Basim splashes water in his face before lifting his son out of the water to gently bring him back in with a dramatic declaration of revenge. 

“Your husband is pretty cute too,” the man remarks lightly. Nicky turns back to him, gaping at the man’s audacity and heart completely out of control now at the prospect of being called Joe’s _husband._ The man just looks at Nicky with a lazy smirk before shrugging unrepentantly and raising a brow. “You disagree?” Nicky can only open and shut his mouth dumbly, brain buzzing with white noise as it overloads. God, _husband._ It's far too soon to talk about that but suddenly Nicky is gripped with an almost painful longing to see a ring on his finger and a matching one on Joe's. 

“This man bugging you Nico?” a warm voice says, pulling Nicky from his reverie. 

Turning to where Joe is watching the man warily as he stands in front of Nicky, he shakes his head, keeping an eye on Amani and Basim splashing around behind Joe. “No, he just seems to be delusional,” Nicky quips, before smirking. “He seems to think you look cute.” 

Nicky delights in the way Joe’s eyes widen as he bites his lip to hide his pleased smile. “I don’t know why he would be calling me cute when he has such lovely eye candy right next to him,” Joe replies with a wink at Nicky, recovering far too quickly to his chagrin. Now it’s Nicky's turn to be caught off guard, ducking his head to hide his blush. 

The man beside them chuckles. “You both are adorable together,” he says with a shake of his head, before slipping in the water and swimming away. 

Nicky and Joe blink at each other before releasing quiet chuckles. “He’s not wrong,” Nicky admits, smile dancing on his lips as he bridges the gap between them. “You are pretty cute.” 

Pecking his lips before Joe can recover, Nicky wades over to where Basim and Amani are practicing their kicks. “You are doing wonderfully cuccioli mio!” he calls, earning matching grins. 

Eventually, both children are tired out, unused to this kind of exercise. When they seem to be fading Joe and Nicky lift them out of the water before wrapping them in their towels and placing them on their lounge chairs to nap. Relaxing on his own chair with a sigh, Nicky pulls out his book. Joe watches him morosely but Nicky only raises a brow. “I told you to bring a book,” he comments, making Joe groan. 

“I didn’t want to be distracted ‘cause I needed to keep an eye on the kids!” he protests. Nicky looks pointedly at where Amani and Basim are passed out, clutching their stuffed animals as they doze. “At least I made the right choice bringing Rabbit and Bear,” Joe says stubbornly, crossing his arms. 

Shaking his head with a smile, Nicky pecks Joe’s cheek before reaching in the bag and pulling out Joe’s current book he snuck in last minute. “Always thinking of everyone but yourself amore mio,” he gently chastises. 

Joe stares wide-eyed at the book before turning to Nicky with a besotted smile. “I love you Nico,” he whispers. Nicky’s heart thrums, still unused to the thrill that shoots through him at those words. Bridging the gap between their chairs to draw Joe into a gentle kiss Nicky whispers, “And I you tesoro. With all my heart.” 

*******

That night, it doesn’t take too much to get the kids to sleep, both of them exhausted after their exciting day. Joe watches them sleep for a long moment, breathing deeply as he reminds himself that they were okay today, that nothing happened. A touch on his shoulder pulls him from his mantra and Nicky shoots him a questioning glance. Shaking off his excess anxiety, Joe stands to press a soft kiss to Amani and Basim’s heads before leading Nicky to their bedroom ( _their_ bedroom Joe still thinks with a thrill) instead of the living room.

Once the door is shut, Joe draws Nicky into a languid kiss, backing up until he hits the bed. “Do you know how hard it was to keep my hands off you when you were lounging on that chair in nothing but those red trunks, reading like you had no idea what you were doing to me?” Joe growls. 

Nicky smiles into their next kiss, this one more heated than the last. “If reading is what gets you going we have quite a large book collection to help you out,” he quips in reply. Joe barks out a laugh, laying back on the bed and dragging Nicky down so he's pressed up against him. He stutters out a gasp as Nicky kisses and nips his way along Joe’s neck, already knowing his most sensitive spots from previous explorations. Joe arches up to him, relishing in Nicky’s moan as he answers Joe by rocking down. This is usually where they stop before they get too riled up, but Joe thinks back to that sleek red suit, the way Nicky spread across the chair. He thinks about Nicky curled up on the couch shooting Joe a knowing smirk or tugging a hand through his hair in the way that shoots electricity down his spine. He thinks about the underlying arousal he's felt for months and shoved down, remnants of his guilt haunting him.

And he decides. He’s ready. It’s not a betrayal, it’s not erasing her. Nothing could erase her; this is simply another chapter. A chapter Joe never expected he would flip to. 

Nicky braces himself over Joe, pausing his ministrations to study him and silently check in. Joe drinks in the barely restrained tremors running through Nicky, the want burning in his eyes. He licks his lips before tracing a hand down Nicky’s chest, further and further until he finds his target. Nicky stiffens, eyes searching. “Are you sure?” he breathes. 

Joe nods, releasing a shuddering breath. “Yes Nico. I want you.” The sound that Nicky releases is animalistic as he grinds down and claims Joe’s lips in a desperate kiss. Joe responds in kind, growing wild and flipping them so he has the proper leverage. But all at once Nicky slows them down, kissing growing languid rather than heated. “Like this,” he whispers, rocking gently. “Let me love you.” Joe burrows his face in the crook of Nicky’s neck, speechless and overwhelmed, and for the first time in over three years, he lets someone else bring him over the edge of ecstasy. 

When they’re done, sweaty and sated and messy, Joe clings to Nicky like a koala bear. “I need to clean us up, love,” Nicky insists, laughing when Joe aggressively nuzzles him in response. 

“Don’t wanna let go,” he mumbles. 

“You’ll regret it in the morning,” Nicky warns. 

But Joe shakes his head. “No. Not gonna regret this.” 

“You know what I mean tesoro,” Nicky laughs. 

Groaning, knowing that Nicky’s right, Joe rolls off of him but before he can get his limbs to work so he can grab something, Nicky has already slipped out of the room. He comes back a moment later with a wet cloth and affectionate eyes. 

Once they’re cleaned up, Nicky lets Joe resume his clinging, humming and stroking Joe’s hair until he’s near purring. “That was nice, right?” Joe mumbles awkwardly. 

Nicky huffs out a laugh, kissing Joe’s cheek. “It was far more than nice,” he murmurs before pausing his strokes. “But it also wasn’t necessary.” Lifting Joe’s chin, Nicky studies him solemnly. “If you decide you actually needed more time I’m happy to wait more.” 

Heart surging with love, Joe shakes his head emphatically. “Nope. Now that I've got a taste I’m sorry to say there are no returns,” he declares. Delighting in the blush spreading across Nicky’s cheeks, Joe draws Nicky into a soft kiss before settling across his chest with a sigh. “I love you ya amar.” 

“I love you amore mio. With all my heart,” Nicky responds, kissing Joe’s head. And with a happy hum, Joe sinks into Nicky’s embrace, content and sated and so full of love he could burst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oddio is an exclamation that essentially means "Oh god"
> 
> Thank you for reading and happy New Year :-) <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summer's coming to an end, but this love certainly isn't!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know I've spoiled you all but as I get back to work I'll probably be returning to weekly updates :-( Thank you in advance for your patience!
> 
> Also thank you Hewt for the idea of what Joe and Booker would bicker about :-)

"Nicky...what are you wearing?" Joe chokes out. 

Nicky raises a brow as he lowers his book. "My new cargo pants of course." 

Joe sputters. "But we're still at only four tallies!" he protests. (And he’s quite proud of himself for that fact considering how long it’s been since they implemented the chalkboard.)

Nicky hums idly, turning back to his book. "True caro, but I believe another part of our deal was that you would make our bed." Nicky raises his gaze above his book, fighting back a smirk. "Have you made our bed in the past week my love?" 

Moaning, Joe drags his feet towards Nicky and dramatically collapses onto the couch. "I've been so busy though hayati!" Joe protests. "Illustrating our book!" 

Nicky keeps his gaze fixed on his novel, knowing if he looked to the side he would cave in the face of Joe's devastating doe eyes. "We are certainly making some solid progress," Nicky responds mildly. 

“Baba look!” Basim says with excitement, picking up one of his dolls and shoving it in one of Nicky’s pockets. “Nicky Mouse can carry our toys now!” Joe stares at the endless pockets hopelessly, only now noticing how they bulge out. When he glances up, Nicky is smirking openly, knowing that he’s won this round. 

“You’re lucky I love you and my love goes deeper than the surface,” Joe declares, wiggling and snuggling until Nicky obligingly rearranges his limbs so Joe is tucked under his chin with Nicky’s book in front of them both.

“What a relief,” Nicky replies with amusement. Joe just grumbles in response. Well, being in love means that you have to make sacrifices, and this seems to be an unavoidable one. Soon enough Joe is distracted from his despair at his love’s fashion sense though as Nicky’s reads to him in that lovely timbre that soothes something restless in Joe’s chest. Humming, Joe allows his eyes to slip closed as Nicky’s words wash over him. They remain there, Nicky translating his book out loud to Joe while Basim and Amani play amongst themselves through the afternoon. When both of their phones buzz however, Nicky pauses and Joe lethargically reaches for his phone and displays it so Nicky can also read what’s on it.

 ** _Andy_ to shit lets start a band** _Final summer hurrah at the bar. Be there or be square_

 **Quỳnh** _How did I marry such a dork?_

**Andy** _Just got lucky I guess_

 **Joe** _I assume this will be kid friendly?_

 **Andy** _you’re only allowed to come IF you bring a kid_

 **Booker** _Hey Joe can I borrow Amani or Basim?_

 **Nicky** _Find your own kid Booker_

Joe and Nicky exchange grins before they return to the chat.

 **Nile** _Clarifying question: can it be one child per couple?_

 **Andy** _....I find this acceptable_

 **Nile** _Joe remember May ‘16? Yeah, I’m calling that in_

Nicky watches with bemusement as Joe releases a low groan, thumping his head against his phone. 

**Joe** _*middle finger*_

 **Joe** _you win asshole_

“Do I want to know?” Nicky asks wryly. 

Turning in his arms Joe buries his face against Nicky's chest. “She caught me with my pants down,” he mumbles. “Literally.” 

Nicky releases a low laugh, stroking his fingers through Joe's hair. “Poor Yusuf,” he teases. 

*******

Amani and Basim are thrilled to go to the bar of course, having visited a few times since Joe’s birthday. “There’s my two favourite people!” Quỳnh exclaims. 

“I don’t think she’s referring to us,” Joe remarks, earning a dramatic sigh from Nicky. 

“I can’t blame her,” he shrugs, lifting Basim onto his back to the boy’s delight.

“Baba me!” Amani subsequently demands. Nicky gives her a look causing her to blow out an annoyed breath. “Please?” 

He shakes his head with fond exasperation as he makes it to the bar while Joe obliges his daughter. Once he gets to the counter Basim reaches out eager arms to be passed on to Quỳnh. It took a few more visits but he’s thoroughly enamored with both Quỳnh and Andy at this point. “And how are you doing little one?” she croons. 

“We can bring our toys everywhere now because Nicky Mouse has big pockets,” he informs her in response, playing with her ponytail as he does. 

Quỳnh raises a brow as she studies Nicky’s pants. “Didn’t Joe burn all of those?” she asks. 

“I tried,” Joe replies tiredly.

“What he means is we had a deal and he broke it,” Nicky says archly. 

“Baba didn’t make their bed,” Amani giggles, clambering into Andy’s arms which she allows with resigned bemusement. (She’s not fooling anyone.)

“I’ve been distracted,” Joe says defensively, plopping down in a stool and accepting his custom drink with a smile. While Andy and Quỳnh help their other customers, Nicky sits beside him with a grin. “Stop looking so self-satisfied,” Joe mumbles into his drink. 

Sipping the beer Andy passes him on the way to drop off another drink, Nicky looks at Joe innocently. “Me? Never!” 

Joe rolls his eyes and tries to hide his fond smile in his drink, startling when a heavy hand claps his shoulder. “See the cargo pants deal didn’t last, huh?” Booker remarks smugly, sliding into the seat next to Joe. Fortunately given the early hour they don’t need to fight to get four seats beside each other. _Un_ fortunately Booker laughed at Joe when he first informed him of his and Nicky’s deal and the prick subsequently placed a bet with Nile against Joe lasting the rest of the summer. 

Joe glowers at Booker. “Remind me Booker,” Joe says offhandedly in that innocent tone that bodes ill, “How did the French women do in the World Cup this summer?” While Booker and Joe launch into their usual bickering, Nicky rolls his eyes and turns to Nile who’s seated next to him. 

“Soccer again?” Nile asks, making Nicky wince. 

“You know how much I enjoy commiserating with you over our partners’ obsession with this sport but _please_ call it by its proper name,” Nicky begs. "American football hardly even uses feet!" 

Nile simply raises an unimpressed brow while sipping the beer Quỳnh has passed her. “You’re in America Nicky. Learn to assimilate.” While Nicky mutters several choice words in Italian that he will certainly never be teaching Basim and Amani, Nile cackles to herself. They’re both cut off however when Booker and Joe get whipped in the ears with towels. 

“You know talk of football is banned in this group,” Quỳnh chastises them. “We don’t need a repeat of Memorial Day.” 

Everyone shudders at the reminder before obediently shutting their mouths. 

“So you ready for the start of another year?” she asks Joe and Booker as Quỳnh places their usual orders in front of them: nachos for Joe, a chicken caesar wrap for Nicky, wings for Nile, and mozzarella sticks for Booker. The kids of course have free reign of any of the foods because the adults are all enablers to Nicky’s chagrin. (Not that he’s any better.) 

Booker and Joe exchange looks. “Yeaaah…” Joe says slowly.

“Mhm definitely,” Booker adds, nodding as he takes a long sip of The Old Guard’s latest mocktail. 

Nicky rolls his eyes. “They’ve both been avoiding lesson planning and it’s going to bite them in the you know what very soon,” he informs the group with amusement. 

“Where is it going to bite him?” Amani asks from where she’s ended up in Booker’s lap and is carefully attempting to rip a mozzarella stick in half with Booker’s guidance. 

Nicky blanches while Joe chortles in his drink. “In the ear,” he says desperately, fumbling for an explanation. “Kind of like how your baba drags Booker by the ear when he’s being a nuisance.” 

“What’s a nutsense?” Basim asks as he sits in Nile’s lap, ever curious when it comes to unfamiliar words. He’s going to be a writer, Nicky can see it now. Though hopefully he learns to wipe his fingers before touching a keyboard or paper, Nicky thinks to himself wryly as Basim takes a bite of the wing Nile cut for him. 

“It’s like what your Baba is when he tries to taste my cooking before it’s done,” Nicky explains, returning to the question and looking at Joe fondly. 

“It’s not my fault you can’t take the gesture as the compliment it is!” Joe protests with a teasing grin before swiping a fry and dodging Nicky’s halfhearted attempt to bat him away. It was a topic of heated discussion on their second non-couch date: to share or not to share fries. Nicky was strongly opposed to sharing his fries, slightly territorial of the delicious goodness. Joe took the opposite stance, but his choice had nothing to do with the fact that his meal didn’t come with fries of course. 

It all came to a head when Joe gasped and exclaimed that someone was eating pizza with a fork while pointing to a spot behind Nicky. While Nicky turned to look in horror, Joe took his opportunity and stole a handful of fries. By the time Nicky turned back around with a frown, Joe was guiltily eating a mouthful of food and there was a conspicuous hole in Nicky’s pile of fries. 

It goes to show how stupidly in love Nicky is that he not only let Joe get away with it but has continued to do so. Sometimes being in love is highly inconvenient. 

Tuning back into the present, Nicky works to futilely shield his fries from grasping fingers. However, his mistake is to only guard on the side Joe is sitting on, and before his disbelieving eyes Basim has grabbed a fry. While Nicky gapes at the boy who is looking far too pleased with himself, Joe releases a hearty laugh. “Proud of you Basim!” he chortles while Nicky shoots him a mock glare. 

“You are teaching your children horrible morals,” he chides while Joe shrugs unrepentantly.

Nicky watches with curiosity as Booker whispers in Amani’s ear before, with a grin, she reaches over and snatches a nacho. While Joe turns to her with a look of betrayal, Nicky smiles smugly. “Kaaarmaaa,” he sings. 

Nile just shakes your head. “Y’all are children,” she mutters. 

“Like you haven’t stolen some of Booker’s mozzarella sticks before,” Joe scoffs. 

“Stealing food is the mark of a healthy relationship,” Andy says wisely, coming back from handing off some checks. 

“You’re just saying that because you won’t stop stealing my goi cuon,” Quỳnh mutters, with a shove at her wife. 

Andy just grins unrepentantly. “A mark of a healthy relationship!” she emphasises, throwing an arm around Quỳnh and pecking her cheek. Immediately Quỳnh melts and kisses her back before slipping out of Andy’s grasp to follow the summoning of another customer. Nicky watches her go fondly. He’s always admired Andy and Quỳnh’s relationship, the ease and playfulness between them even after all these years. Coming from a home of silent and tense meals on the rare occasion that he and his parents ate together, it was something of a shock when he first sat for dinner with Andy and Quỳnh. The atmosphere was lively and full of love and affection and Nicky could only watch them numbly, not understanding how a relationship could be like that. 

They’ve been a model since then to Nicky, a goal for him and his dream partner. He’s witnessed them argue, seen them struggle, yet continue to come out the other side stronger for it. He’s seen them laugh and dance and swing each other around like they’re 20 and newly in love. And as he’s watched them through the years, he’s turned to his own failed relationships and wondered if those two were simply an outlier. 

Then he met Joe. 

Mid-bite, Joe shoots Nicky a questioning glance. “What?” he asks, voice muffled as he continues to chew his nachos. Nicky can only imagine what kind of besotted look is currently on his face.

In lieu of gushing about his love for this man, Nicky rolls his eyes with a huff of laughter and brushes some stray crumbs out of Joe’s beard. “Just amazed as usual by your horrid table manners,” he teases, earning those wide doe eyes that Joe shamelessly uses against him. Caving immediately as Joe swallows his bite, Nicky swoops in for a quick kiss. “My ridiculous man,” he murmurs against his lips. 

“A ridiculous man who loves you,” Joe whispers in response. Nicky ducks his head as his heart speeds up, still unused to those words crossing Joe’s mouth. 

He flinches as a towel whips his ear. “Get a room,” Andy calls. 

“But they’re in a room,” Amani points out helpfully, munching on a french fry she has stolen while Nicky was distracted staring into Joe's eyes. Clever, mischievous girl. 

Nicky snorts into the drink he’s turned back to, smirking up at Andy. “Yeah Andy, we’re in a room,” he echoes.

While Andy glares at him, Quỳnh steals one of Joe’s nachos and ignores his squawking. Nicky beams at her. He knew he could count on her loyalty. 

“So when’s Patricia moving in again?” Quỳnh asks, leaning against the counter and munching happily on her stolen food.

“In one week, so mark your calendars because y’all are helping,” Nile informs them. Amani and Basim begin to bounce and wiggle with enthusiasm. When they learned that their grandmother was moving to the same city as them, they were ecstatic and that excitement hasn’t faded in the following weeks. Nicky feels a ball of anxiety curl up in his stomach though. He can’t help but remember the first impression he made on Patricia, disappearing and breaking down when she did something as simple as show him an alternate cutting technique. 

He’ll do better moving forward; Nicky is determined to earn her respect. 

*******

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

Nicky freezes from where he’s placing a pot in the cupboard. “Um. Unpacking your kitchen?” 

Joe snorts as Patricia places her hands on her hips and raises an elegant brow. “Would you ever let anyone touch and sort _your_ kitchen supplies?” she asks archly. 

Nicky looks horrified. “No ma’am.” 

Patricia nods. “Quite right. Now go help Yusuf in the living room. And drop this ma’am nonsense.” 

As Nicky scurries away, Joe pats him on the back, carefully stepping around Amani and Basim as he does. While the adults move Patricia in, Amani and Basim have the very important job of entertaining her dog Toby and they’re taking their task very seriously. “You know she’s just fooling with you, right?” Joe grins at him as he guides Nicky to Patricia’s bookshelf to organise her books, knowing that’ll soothe him. 

“Of course,” Nicky mutters, shifting subtly so he’s pressed up against Joe as they sit down. Joe hums skeptically. Nicky has been putting far too much pressure on himself. Joe knows that if Nile had made the same remark Nicky would have laughed it off, but he’s far too anxious after the first time he met Patricia. Even though the rest of that night went well, Nicky hasn't been able to let go of his moment of distress and the shame that's accompanied it. Joe wishes he could say or do something that would reassure Nicky that she approves of him, but he knows that Nicky needs the proof directly from Patricia. Hopefully he'll get that today. 

“What the Helll-en Mirrin are you doing!” comes a yelp in the bedroom. 

Exchanging worried glances, Joe and Nicky hurry into the room only to facepalm when they're faced with Booker balancing on a spinny chair while he attempts to hang up one of Nile’s landscape paintings. “Um. Decorating?” he asks, looking down at Nile. 

Nile glares up at him with her hands on her hips in an almost identical picture to her mother a minute ago. “And breaking your neck in the process, you numbskull. Get down from there! That’s what we have _ladders_ for.” Suitably chastised, Booker slowly lowers himself and stumbles into Nile’s arms. “Idiot,” she mutters, pressing a furtive kiss to his lips. Crisis averted, Joe punches Booker’s arm for being a dumbass and heads back into the living room with Nicky. 

They only make it through one box however when another commotion sounds from the office. “I swear to you the love of my life and the pain in my tuchus, if you make me move this one more time I’m filing for divorce,” Andy growls. 

Curiosity piqued, Joe and Nicky wander into the office to find Andy sweating through her tank top while Quỳnh stands with her arms crossed, dress pristine as she wears a contemplative expression. “I just can’t decide where the desk would look best,” she sighs with a shake of her head. 

“Don’t lie Quỳnh, you just want to see your wife handle heavy objects,” Nicky butts in with a grin. The amount of times he’s seen Quỳnh eye Andy hungrily while her wife moved something heavy are too many to count. 

Quỳnh looks at him haughtily. “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean,” she sniffs. 

Groaning, Andy stomps over to her wife and frames her face with her hands before shaking her gently. “You are a menace and an absolute terror.” 

Quỳnh shoots her a cheeky grin. “You say the sweetest things,” she croons, wrapping her arms around Andy’s neck and drawing her into a kiss that her other half immediately sinks into. 

Shaking their heads, Joe and Nicky trudge back to their stations. “Maybe we need to give up on unpacking and assume a supervisory role instead,” Nicky remarks wryly, making Joe release a huff of laughter. 

“If Patricia sees us lazing about she’s sure to give us a piece of her mind.” Turning a contemplative look at where Basim and Amani are forlornly petting Toby now that they’ve tired him out Joe hums, “I may have a better idea.” 

And so began the reign of Amani and Basim, who gleefully and unapologetically ruled with iron and candy-filled fists over the adults of the land. (How they found the hidden stash of candy their subjects do not know.) 

“No Uncle Booker you should organise grandma's closet and Auntie should decorate the room because you don’t know how to decorate,” Basim informs him gravely while pulling at the gummy worm hanging from his mouth. While Nile cackles, Booker pales at the prospect of going through Patricia’s clothes. 

Before he can protest, Basim has already moved to the living room where Amani is chastising Nicky and Joe’s sorting skills and munching on a chocolate bar. “You should place the books by _color_ that way they look pretty,” Amani says with exasperation. Nicky shoots Joe a despairing look as he pauses where he had been sorting them alphabetically. 

“Auntie Quỳnh why are you just standing there? You should be helping Auntie Andy!” Basim exclaims as he enters the office. Joe’s amusement at the chaos spreading around him is tempered by the fondness that surges up at Basim’s words. No one told Basim and Amani to call Andy and Quỳnh auntie but after spending enough time with them the title just slipped out. The first time Amani called them that Joe _swears_ Andy’s eyes got suspiciously bright, even if she’ll deny it till her dying day. 

“Still think this was a good idea my heart?” Nicky asks lightly as he begrudgingly obeys Amani’s orders. 

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Joe grumbles, resigning himself to the task of redoing the shelves at a later date when he's not under the watchful eye of two imperious children. 

When Patricia exits the kitchen to investigate what the fuss is about, she releases a low laugh. “Glad to see the little ones have finally whipped you all into shape!” she remarks with an approving nod. Turning a sharp gaze to Nicky she tilts her head towards the kitchen. “I could use a second opinion about how I should organise my drawers,” she says offhandedly. 

Nicky’s eyes widen before stumbling to his feet after an encouraging nudge from Joe. “I would love to help ma- Patricia,” he stutters out, hurrying into the kitchen. Joe grins at Patricia as she winks at him before turning to follow Nicky in. That offer should hopefully reassure Nicky that he’s on Patricia’s good side. 

His heart thrums happily a moment later as Nicky and Patricia launch into a serious discussion about the merits of organising the cooking utensils by stick and non-stick. Yeah, they’re gonna get along fine.

 *******

_”Must_ you lick your ice cream in that way?” Nicky asks with exasperation, his eyes dark and hungry as he watches Joe instead of where he’s walking. 

Joe just smiles at him cheekily. “See something you like Nico?” he asks with a wink. Tugging Joe by his shirt collar, Nicky draws him into a heated kiss, licking the taste of caramel and vanilla ice cream from his mouth. Joe moans, sinking into the kiss in that pliant way that gets Nicky’s heart pounding and sends a thrill down his spine. 

Before he can get carried away, Nicky steps back with a shaky breath and resumes their walk along the pond in the park Joe brought them to. Now that Patricia has moved in, she’s been insistent on babysitting Amani and Basim, to Joe’s continued reluctance. But not even an overprotective father can go up against Patricia’s arched eyebrows so eventually Joe conceded. It won’t be a weekly thing of course but they’ll certainly be able to go out more than they were before Patricia moved closer. 

With the summer’s heat fading and the school year right around the corner, Joe insisted that they get ice cream for dinner for tonight’s date and Nicky couldn’t say no to that smile. He wasn’t expecting Joe to bring them to a beautiful park to watch the sunset while they eat their ice cream however. That romantic man. 

Hooking his arm through Joe’s, Nicky resumes licking his own ice cream as he feels Joe’s eyes burning into the side of his head. “You’re a tease Nico,” Joe declares. 

Nicky just smirks. “Takes one to know one.” With a rumble, Joe rounds to face Nicky and claims his lips in another hungry kiss. Nicky smiles victoriously and allows himself to be backed up against a tree. They get lost for a suspended moment as Joe cradles Nicky’s face with one hand while they explore each other with lazy tongues and teasing teeth. 

Joe draws away with a grimace far too soon however as his melting ice cream drips onto his hand. With a glower at his cone, Joe licks the trail of ice cream along his hand while Nicky watches him hungrily. Spotting his expression, Joe grins. “Later babe,” he promises. Nicky nods with a sigh, knowing this is certainly not the time nor the place. It’s not like they’re constantly lusting after each other and ready to jump one another’s bones, but ever since that heated night after the pool, the floodgates have opened. Now that he has permission, sometimes Nicky finds it difficult to keep his hands off of Joe when it’s just the two of them. 

Straightening out his rumpled clothes, Nicky follows Joe’s lead and cleans up his ice cream before linking their arms together once more and resuming their walk. Eventually, they come across a bench and Nicky guides them to it, settling down and placing his head on Joe’s shoulder. He adores their slight height difference; Joe is just tall enough for Nicky to rest on him, but not too tall to keep Joe from doing the same. As he wraps an arm around Nicky Joe releases a contented sigh, gazing out over the pond. “This has been a nice summer,” he murmurs after a comfortable silence. Nicky hums, wiggling closer to Joe to hear him chuckle and earn a sticky kiss on his forehead. 

“It’s been wonderful,” he replies with a sigh.

“You’re gonna miss this once school starts again,” Joe mumbles with regret. 

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I happen to adore our couch dates,” Nicky says firmly. Shifting so Joe can properly see him, Nicky draws him into a kiss. “I don’t need to be wooed or romanced. Seeing you each day whether you’re half-asleep on your feet or buried under your grading or sketching or playing with your children or doing _anything_ -” Nicky catches his breath before starting again, smiling as he does and brushing a thumb across Joe's cheek. “I don’t need to be on a date to feel your love. Being in your presence is enough.” 

Joe’s eyes glow in the fading sun and Nicky only has a fleeting chance to admire them before he’s distracted by soft lips and a seeking tongue. They kiss lazily, none of the heat from early returning. No- this is just a declaration and an answer. 

Once more and again sooner than Nicky would like, they’re interrupted by melting ice cream and Joe pulls away with a rueful laugh. “Maybe ice cream was a bad idea,” he comments. 

Nicky only releases a hum as he admires the flick of Joe’s tongue along his wrist. “I’m not sure Yusuf, I’m certainly enjoying myself.” 

Joe’s eyes widen as Nicky licks along the trail of melted ice cream slowly and Nicky can’t help but revel at the way Joe gulps. It’s so easy sometimes. “You’re an evil man,” Joe rasps. 

“An evil man you love,” Nicky says with a smile, resuming his earlier position as he returns to his ice cream. Joe releases a low chuckle and he throws his arm back around Nicky, settling in comfortably. 

They remain there until their ice creams are gone and the sun sets over the water. “I think we’re close to submitting the draft of the graphic novel,” Nicky eventually remarks in the quiet, watching the stars flicker into view. With Joe’s art and inspiration, the story has come together seamlessly. And through their playdates Joe and Nicky learned that Zahra knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who’s in the publishing industry. They’ve contacted her and given the pitch and she was immediately interested and now is patiently waiting for the draft. 

“I can’t wait to see it in stores,” Joe whispers. “I can see it now: Nicky di Genova, the critically acclaimed author.” 

Nicky nudges Joe. “And Yusuf Al-Kaysani, the remarkable artist without whom there’d be no book,” he says pointedly. Joe just brushes it off with a shrug, causing Nicky to sigh. He’s still unconvinced that he should be the artist and multiple times had attempted to push Nile on Nicky instead. Nicky finally caved and pulled Nile in as the colorist to her delight, but even Nile insisted that Joe should stay on as the artist. He can only hope that if this book is successful, it’ll finally convince Joe what Nicky and their friends have been trying to say all along. 

Instead of renewing this argument, Nicky pulls Joe up. “C’mon love, I want to watch the next episode of the Great British Bake Off. But I swear if Lorenzo wins star baker again I won’t be responsible for my actions.” 

Laughing, Joe allows himself to be dragged to his feet before throwing his arm back around Nicky’s shoulders. “I’ll make sure that all hard objects are out of reach so the only thing you can throw at the TV is Cow’s toys,” he assures Nicky. 

Shifting so he can lace their fingers together, Nicky swings their arms back and forth and ducks his head. If enabling his occasional need to throw things at the TV isn’t love, Nicky doesn’t know what is. “I suppose this compromise is acceptable,” he nods, grinning when Joe swoops in for a furtive kiss. With a happy sigh, Nicky presses close to Joe as they meander back to the car. Yes, curling up beside Joe while he laughs at Nicky's ranting sounds like a perfect end to their date.

*******

“BABA!” Joe wakes up with a start, gripping Nicky’s hip as the other man, bless his heart, is already sitting upright looking around and alert. Two tiny bodies barrel into Joe and Nicky before burrowing under the blankets while Joe struggles to wake fully.

“What’s wrong loves?” Joe croaks, still trying to blink away sleep while Nicky winds his arms around Basim and hushes him gently. 

“Thunder,” Amani whispers from where she’s buried in Joe's arms. Joe winces and presses her close to his chest, realising he slept through the bangs. As if on cue, the thunder rumbles and both children whimper and shake. 

“Oh cuccioli, don’t you know the story of thunder?” Nicky asks. Joe looks at him curiously, wondering where he’s going with this while Basim and Amani shake their heads. Humming, Nicky strokes a hand through Basim’s curls. “Well,” he says in a hushed whisper, “Once upon a time there lived a prince and princess. They were loved by everyone in their kingdom far and wide but there was a problem: there were tales of a monstrous beast in the outer reaches of their land, a beast with a roar that shook mountains and struck down trees. So you know what the prince and princess did?” Both children shake their heads once more, still hiding their faces in Nicky and Joe's chests. As they answer Cow leaps onto the bed with a meow, curling up between Nicky and Joe. 

Chuckling down at the cat Nicky says, “Well, the prince and princess being wise and brave rulers, decided to ride on their horses to investigate this beast and slay it if needed. And of course they traveled with their trusty furry companion by their side.” Stroking a hand through Cow’s fur Nicky raises his eyebrows. “And you know what they found?” Basim and Amani shake their heads, now peering up at Nicky as enraptured as Joe is himself. “Well, it turned out it wasn’t a beast at all!” Nicky exclaims quietly, spreading his hands wide for emphasis. “It was just giants having a party, playing drums and dancing with lanterns.” He cocks his head to the side. “So do you think they needed to be slain?” Again heads shake rapidly and Joe notes with relief that their trembling has stopped. Nicky nods with a smile. “Of course not. You know what they did instead?” 

Amani and Basim sit up, waiting impatiently while Nicky pauses for dramatic effect and Joe bites back a laugh. “Well, they joined the party of course!” Nicky says, throwing up his arms. “They danced with the lanterns and played on the drums themselves! So those booms you hear, those flashes? That’s just the great great great grandchildren of the giants and prince and princess dancing and playing their music together, because even today they’re the best of friends.” 

Amani shifts so she’s pressed against Joe’s side and closer to Nicky. “What about their furry friend?” she asks, clutching Bear. 

Nicky smiles down at her. “Well their furry friend’s great great great grandchildren dance right alongside them of course.” 

Swept up in Nicky’s story, Amani and Basim hadn’t even flinched at the thunder, but as another boom echoes through the sky, they cower back into Nicky and Joe’s arms. Frowning, Nicky draws Basim closer to his chest. “Would you like to hear more stories about the prince and princess?” he whispers. 

Basim and Amani nod, once again hiding their faces against the two men. Nicky bites his lip, clearly racking his brain for a story when Joe cuts in. “Well, one day the prince and princess went to the king’s chamber only to find him sighing sadly as he stared out the window. When he was asked what was wrong, the king explained that he met the most beautiful man the day before, a man he was certain was not of this world given his beauty and goodness.” Joe gazes softly at Nicky, heart so full at the way this man has soothed his loves. Turning back to his children, Joe picks up one of Amani’s braids to boop her on the nose. “So you know what they did?” 

Amani sits up. “Did they go in search of the beautiful man?” she asks hopefully. 

“Of course!” Joe exclaims. “They rode out that morning and traveled into the deep dark forest where no one dared to go. For there were rumours of horrible beasts that would snatch you right up,” he says, tickling Amani as he does and watching her squirm and giggle. “But when they rode through the forest, they didn’t find any beasts or monsters. Just a man leaning against a tree, writing and sighing the same way the king was.”

“He liked the king too!” Basim gasps, sitting up in Nicky’s arms. 

Joe nods with a grin, winking at Nicky as he blushes. “But when the prince and princess informed the beautiful man that the king’s heart longed for him, the beautiful man didn’t believe them!” 

While Amanai and Basim pout Joe raises a finger. “The prince and princess were clever and also quite mischievous though,” he says in a conspiratorial whisper. “Before they left the castle they had found the king’s personal sketchbook and brought it with them. When the beautiful man saw all the drawings the king did of him, he was convinced of the king’s love and traveled to the kingdom with the prince, princess, and their furry friend.” 

“Did the king and beautiful man live happily ever after?” Basim asks, raising himself on his knees.

Joe reaches out to brush a curl of hair from his son’s eye. “Of course habibi. They all lived happily ever after.” 

For the next hour, Joe and Nicky took turns telling tales of the brave prince and princess and all of their adventures. Wrapped up in the arms of Nicky and Joe, Amani and Basim listened attentively, cowering less and less as the storm continued to rage. Eventually, as the thunder began to fade away, so did the children until they finally slipped off to sleep. 

When both children’s breathing evened out, Joe and Nicky turn to look at each other with matching smiles. “A prince and princess, huh?” Joe says with a grin. 

Nicky raises a brow. “A beautiful man?” he replies. 

Beaming, Joe carefully leans across Cow, working not to jostle Amani so he can draw Nicky into a gentle kiss. “Thank you Nico,” he breathes. “They’re always terrified of thunder and it’s always been a struggle to get them to calm down.” Joe shakes his head, swallowing past a lump in his throat as he gazes at the man he loves so much it aches, at the man who is _so good_ with the two most important people in Joe’s life. “I love you,” he rasps. “God I love you so much.” 

Smiling softly, Nicky gently leans over to return Joe’s kiss before tilting his head forward so their foreheads are pressed together. “This may come as a surprise, but I happen to love you very much as well,” is his hushed reply. Huffing out a laugh, Joe nuzzles Nicky’s nose before kissing it, grinning at Nicky’s disarmed smile. Slowly, he lowers himself and Amani down the bed and into a more comfortable position. Soothing Amani as she mumbles in her sleep, Joe tightens his arms around her. “Good night Sir Nicolò,” Joe whispers. 

Nicky follows suit and grins as they both recall one of Joe’s tales. “That was very kind of the king to knight the beautiful man.” 

Joe turns so he can gaze at his love, eyes burning with affection. “Of course he would knight the man who protects the king from all his demons,” he whispers. 

Nicky’s smile softens. “And of course the beautiful man would protect the person who swept him away from his life of solitude and guard the prince and princess who he adores with all his heart.”

“The king is pretty lucky,” Joe murmurs, closing his eyes with a sigh.

“Trust me, the knight is luckier,” is the whispered reply.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we have family bonding times, Nicky takes on a seemingly insurmountable challenge, and the kids have a proposition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those of you who continue to comment, it's an incredible motivator! 
> 
> As usual, italics mean another language is spoken, though in this chapter they're also used to show dialogue with someone on the other line of a phone call and text messages.
> 
>  **Updated note**  
>  Check chapter 13 for an explanation on Rawiya's name change

Nicky checks the oven with an approving hum before looking at the clock. Yep, time to rescue Joe from the bowels of grading. Leaving Basim and Amani to carefully mix the dough, Nicky slips into his and Joe’s bedroom (a phrase that still gives him a thrill). Another addition to the apartment Nicky made has been a desk in their bedroom so the overworked teacher can have some quiet when he needs to get some work done, even if he insists he doesn’t mind working around the kids. With the start of the school year, Joe has begrudgingly acknowledged that there are times that having a space to work has been useful though, especially with the first major assignments of the semester being due. 

Though Nicky misses Joe’s constant presence in the house, he’s grateful that he still gets to see Joe whenever he _is_ free now that they’ve moved in together. And even on the days Joe needs to work at home, all it takes is walking a few feet to see him. 

Joe has tucked himself away for the day, determined to get through some grading so he can have Sunday free for Nicky and the kids. Meanwhile Amani and Basim had a playdate with Hakim while Nicky and Zahra spent the day gossiping and sipping tea. As a nurse Zahra also works odd hours, so it’s been fun finding ways to get their schedules to align. 

When Nicky steps into their bedroom he huffs out an amused breath at the sight that greets him: Joe, faceplated on a stack of papers and quietly moaning. Releasing a sympathetic noise, Nicky walks over and places a hand on Joe’s shoulder and a kiss on his head. “Freshman essays?” When Joe only nods morosely, Nicky lets out a soft hum, combing his fingers through Joe’s hair as he reads the little text not hidden by Joe’s curls. 

“Just a basic grasp of grammar Nico. Is that so hard to ask?” he whines. 

“Clearly it is,” Nicky says, voice tinged with amusement as he winces at a particularly egregious sentence. Even if English isn’t his first language, he’s grateful that he knows the difference between an independent and a dependent clause at least. 

Turning his head so he can send Nicky a one-eyed glare Joe grumbles, “You laugh. I am being tortured by unintelligible writing and you laugh at me.” 

Unable to resist that pout (or Joe in general) Nicky swoops in to peck him on the nose before crouching so they’re at the same level. “Do you think you’re gonna make it though?” Nicky asks gravely. “Because if not they’ll be more makroudh for me and the kids.” 

At the promise of his favourite dessert Joe perks up slightly. “Makroudh?” he echoes, hope alighting in his eyes. 

“And your favourite meal,” Nicky nods. He waits, biting his cheek to keep a straight face as Joe mentally cycles through the multiple meals he has claimed as his favourite before Nicky reveals, “Shiitake mushroom chicken of course.” 

Nicky allows himself a laugh as Joe releases a tortured groan and resumes his earlier faceplanted position. “Will you ever get tired of that joke?” he asks desperately. 

Nicky tangles his fingers in Joe’s hair once more. “Hmm...considering you covering up a swear with a food completely out of context was one of the many endearing qualities that made me fall in love with you, I don’t think I will,” Nicky remarks lightly. 

Joe turns his head so they’re facing each other again, a disarmed smile spreading across his face. “It was just one of my strategies of seducing you,” he claims with a wink. 

Rolling his eyes affectionately, Nicky flicks his ear. “Dinner’s ready in 10. Think you can take a break then?” When Joe nods Nicky presses a quick kiss to his cheek before sweeping out of the room. “Good luck in your valiant war against comma splices!” he calls out behind him, chuckling at the middle finger raised above Joe’s head. 

As Joe eagerly gobbles up another bite of makroudh later that night, he can’t help grinning. Since Ramadan, Nicky has been making more Tunisian cuisine now that he knows how much Joe likes it. As if he wasn’t already spoiling Joe with all the wonderful food he makes. But while he savors the delicious baked good Joe mentally balks. Today is his weekly video call home and he completely spaced with all the grading he had to do. Checking the time he winces. Damn inconvenient time zones. 

Determining to call them after this last bite, Joe releases a sigh and chews thoughtfully. Though his parents have made some thinly veiled comments about wanting to know more about Nicky now that he’s revealed they’re dating, Joe's failed to mention that Nicky has actually moved in. Every time he video calls them Nicky makes himself scarce with an understanding smile and a peck on his cheek. But it’s not fair to him; Joe doesn’t want to hide Nicky like some kind of dirty secret. Not to mention keeping Basim and Amani from revealing that Nicky has moved in has been an endeavor all on its own. He just knows that the moment he mentions they’ve made this step the questioning will begin in earnest. Joe sighs once more. It’s the end of September and they’ve been living together for a few months now. It’s time. 

Joe shifts nervously on the couch as he places his laptop on the coffee table Nicky has convinced him to get after one too many spills of tea. Since he’s mentioned that he’s going to tell his parents that Nicky’s moved in, the man in question has been obsessively cleaning the kitchen. Knowing that it’ll help calm him, Joe’s left him to it. 

“Masā’ al-khair, Aziza and Azizi!” the children call, waving to Leila and Mehdi as their faces appear on the screen.

“Msa'annur my troublemakers,” Mehdi chuckles, while Leila playfully shoves him with a grin. 

“Aaslema Mama, aaslema Baba,” Joe says with a strained smile. 

Both of his parents narrow their eyes in response and it’s moments like this when Joe really wishes he learned how to hide his emotions at some point in his life. “What’s the matter, habibi?” Leila asks, straightening.

Joe swallows nervously, glancing over his shoulder at where Nicky is scrubbing a counter right out of frame. Relaxing at what has become a familiar sight, Joe takes a steady breath before returning to the video call. “I just wanted to tell you that Nicky has moved in,” Joe says with forced nonchalance. 

Mehdi and Leila exchange glances before looking at Joe with expectant expressions. “Well? If he’s moved in I assume he’s with you now?” Leila prompts. 

At Joe’s hesitant nod Mehdi gestures impatiently. “What are you waiting for then? Bring him over.” Biting his lip Joe turns to where Nicky has stopped scrubbing to look at Joe nervously. Joe shrugs and with a breath Nicky joins them, squeezing on the end of the couch beside Amani. Immediately Amani crawls into his lap and soon he finds himself pressed to Joe and fully in frame. 

“As-salam alaykom,” Nicky says slowly as he wraps his arms around Amani, making Joe’s heart surge with pride and affection. Leila and Mehdi raise their eyebrows at each other before they both smile. Honestly it’s creepy how in sync they can be. Joe supposes that’s what happens when you’ve been married for over 30 years though. 

“Wa Alykom As-slam," Leila nods. Nicky smiles weakly and Joe reaches over to squeeze his hand tight. They both gaze at each other for a weighted moment before turning back to the screen, hands still clasped together. 

“We’ve been teaching Nicky Arabic and Nicky has been teaching us Italian!” Basim says excitedly, clambering into Joe’s lap to mirror his sister. 

“I’m a slow learner but I have wonderful teachers,” Nicky says with a shy smile. 

“As we see,” Mehdi comments with an approving nod. 

“So how long have you _actually_ been living together?” Leila asks with a tilt of her head. 

Joe groans. Of course he wasn’t going to get anything past her. “Since summer but then Baba gave us candies so we wouldn’t tell you,” Amani informs them as she plays with the strings of Nicky’s apron. Joe winces, for the first time regretting buying Nicky the garment. Hopefully his parents don’t see what’s written on it or there would be a whole other line of questioning. 

Between that and his deceit being revealed Joe scrubs his face while Leila and Mehdi chuckle. “I see you are being a wonderful role model for the little ones,” Leila remarks lightly.

“Next time we see the children I don’t expect any chastising when we spoil them with sweets,” Mehdi adds, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. 

Joe throws his head back. “Wallahi Baba at least I don’t hand them enough to give them a sugar high so they’re speedrunning around the house!” he exclaims. 

“Except for that time during Patricia’s move,” Nicky cuts in with a teasing grin. Joe glares mulishly at him. “That was as much your fault as mine. I _told_ you the dresser was a bad hiding place.” 

“How is Patricia settling into her new place?” Leila asks, leaning forward with interest. “I’ve been meaning to give her a call.” 

“We get to see grandma all the time now and she babysits us when Baba and Nicky Mouse go on not-couch dates and we get to play with Toby whenever we want since Baba still won’t get us a dog,” Amani rushes out, pouting at the end of her info dump. Joe sighs. The dog conversation has been ongoing for what seems like forever. But the apartment is cramped as it is and throwing a dog into the equation for Nicky to also take care of when Joe’s working isn’t fair. He was hoping having easy access to Toby would placate them but it’s only been making the begging worse. 

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Leila grins before she turns to Mehdi. “We should visit, don’t you think hayati? See Patricia, see our grandchildren, try Nicky’s cooking that I’ve heard so much about,” she adds pointedly. Joe can feel Nicky stiffen beside him while sirens blare in the back of his head. His parents? Here? Where they would have 24/7 access to interrogate him and Nicky? And the combined forces of nature that are his mother and Patricia in one city? 

While Basim and Amani wiggle with excitement and ask their grandparents when they might get to see them, Nicky and Joe turn to each other with matching expressions of dread. Ya rab, he may not survive this. 

*******

“Baba can we get a pumpkin?!” Amani asks, eyes wide as she stares at the pumpkin patch while Basim looks at it with longing from where he’s clutching Nicky’s hand tightly. 

“After we apple pick, okay habibti? We don’t want to have to carry them around,” Joe responds, fussing over her yellow sweater. Appeased with the promise of pumpkins later, Amani skips ahead while Nicky, Joe, and Basim follow at a more sedate pace. Once they get to the apples Nicky is confident Basim will grow more comfortable, but for now he’s content to keep his passerotto close. (Wait that’s new… _his?_ ) Shoving that thought away for another time, Nicky starts brainstorming some pumpkin and fall inspired meals for the upcoming weeks as September comes to a close. 

He pauses his musings however when he feels a tug. When he looks down Nicky finds Basim staring fearfully at a scarecrow in the middle of the field. Right- this is the first year Joe’s brought the kids apple picking so they’ve probably never seen one before. Crouching to his level Nicky murmurs, “That’s a scarecrow, just made out of straw. It helps keep animals away that may want to eat the food.” Basim silently turns in his arms and Nicky wraps him into a grounding hug. With a hum he asks, “Want a piggyback ride?” At Basim’s nod from where he’s buried his head in Nicky’s chest, Nicky shifts so the boy can clamber onto his back. “You know what’s good about being so high up?” Nicky asks as he works to catch up to where Joe is calling out for Amani to slow down. Feeling Basim’s head shake, Nicky says, “You get the best view for apples! So you’ll have to tell us where the best apples are, sì passerotto?” 

“Okay,” is the quiet reply. Considering that was Basim’s first word since they got to the orchard, Nicky smiles with relief. They’re getting somewhere. 

As they near the other pair, Amani has finally slowed down and now has her shoulders slumped, nodding at Joe as he crouches down and speaks calmly to her. “Sorry Baba, I promise I’ll listen,” Amani sniffs as Nicky and Basim come up beside them. 

“I know you were just excited habibti,” Joe sighs, adjusting her green winter hat so it fits more firmly over her braids and ears.

“Hug?” Amani asks in a small voice. 

“Always,” Joe says fiercely, falling onto his knees so he can draw her into a tight embrace. Amani clutches onto Joe’s heavy purple and blue flannel as she buries her face into her father’s chest for a long moment. 

“Down?” Basim requests quietly. Frowning, Nicky crouches so Basim can climb off of him. Straightening his bright red jacket from where it got bunched up, Basim shuffles over so he can hug his sister from behind. Nicky’s heart melts and he quickly draws out his phone to take a photo. In the past months his camera roll has continued to fill with photos of the family, but more and more Nicky has slipped into the frame as well. It’s been…nice. 

Snapping a quick picture, Nicky joins the huddled group and crouches down so he’s on their level. “Would you like a piggyback ride Amani so you can find all the best apples too?” Amani nods meekly while Joe shoots him a small smile, a curl of hair peeking out from his blue and white striped winter hat. God, why does such a small detail make Nicky want to kiss him silly? Caving and allowing himself a quick kiss, grinning at how Joe’s face brightens, Nicky lets Basim climb back up while Joe does the same for Amani. 

It certainly isn’t the easiest, carrying the apple bags and a child, but Nicky manages it. While they head down a lane with red delicious apples, Basim begins to open up as Nicky had hoped, debating with Amani over which trees seem to have the best apples and what kind to pick. He’s grateful for his height when Amani and Basim begin pointing out the high up apples to his chagrin, though he has no one to blame for their selections but himself. Nicky swallows as Joe reaches for a particularly high apple, his flannel and green henley riding up so Nicky has a peek of his boxer briefs. This is _really_ not the time to be staring at the sliver of skin that‘s revealed as well. 

Fortunately, Nicky is knocked out of his daze when Basim points out another apple that’s high up and perfectly ripe. With a determined nod, Nicky walks to the tree to retrieve the apple for him. 

Before they know it, their apple bags are filled up and the group turns back to pay for their bounty and get some pumpkins on the way. It turns out Basim and Amani are worse than Goldilocks when it comes to pumpkin picking however, and Nicky is eventually sent to hunt down some apple doughnuts while Joe sits on the ground to patiently wait his children out. 

When Nicky comes back with a bag of doughnuts a few minutes later, chewing while looking at the half-eaten doughnut skeptically, Joe spots him and laughs. Nick swallows the bite, shooting him an inquiring glance. “I know you’re stewing over the fact that you could probably make better apple doughnuts but d’you think you can pause your scheming until we get home and into the kitchen, babe?” Joe asks with a fond grin. 

Nicky pauses his glaring at the doughnut to blush. “Sorry- they’re good but I would just add some more cinnamon,” he defends, sitting next to Joe and leaning his head on his shoulder with a sigh. 

Joe reaches into the bag and selects a doughnut to munch on himself. As he does Joe raises a brow. “I think you might just need to bring your standards to a slightly more reasonable level,” Joe comments, taking another bite. 

“It’s not that hard to add the right ratios,” Nicky grumbles while Joe wraps an arm around him. 

“My poor Nico, suffering from eating baking that’s not his,” Joe teases. Nicky huddles closer, cold even in the cozy sweatshirt he’s officially claimed as his to Joe’s amusement. Good thing Joe runs warm. 

They remain there contentedly for five more minutes while Amani and Basim narrow their choices down before they finally make their selection. Fortunately, they choose two pumpkins that are reasonable sizes, and based off of the gleam in Joe’s eyes he’s already envisioning what he’ll carve in them. Nicky can’t wait to see. 

*******

“Thank you so much Joe,” Zahra yawns as she opens the door, her stained and baggy sweatpants and sweatshirt an amusing contrast to her neatly bound hijab. 

“It’s no problem at all,” Joe replies, ushering the kids into the house. Between Zahra working three night shifts in a row, her husband Ahmed's flight being delayed from his business trip, and their babysitter having the day off, she sent an SOS to him and Nicky which Joe was happy to respond to. Over the past few months Amani and Basim have gotten incredibly close to Hakim, a precocious and excitable boy who balances the twins out nicely. And though they just had a playdate with him last weekend with Nicky, they were more than happy at the prospect of seeing him again this morning. 

While Zahra shuffles to bed, the children hurry over to the playroom, Joe strolling behind them. As they pull out the toys they’ll be playing with, Joe plops down on a beanbag and pulls out some work; they’re pretty self-sufficient so Joe shouldn’t need to monitor them too closely. He’s about to get started on some lesson planning when he falters. Crap, he should really start planning the twins’ birthday party, so it doesn’t sneak up on him like last year. Joe can’t believe they’ll be seven in less than a month. Shaking off the creeping sense of melancholy and panic that comes with that reminder, Joe pulls out his notebook. 

The theme will be easy, considering what Amani and Basim’s biggest obsession has been this year. Joe is dreading when their interests inevitably diverge and he’ll be planning two different parties though. Jotting down the theme and the various items he’ll need to pick up, Joe racks his brain for the names of the friends Amani and Basim are closest to before coming up with a reasonable sized list. Now comes the hard part. 

Joe taps his pen on the notebook, trying to think about what they would want for gifts. They have enough toys and clothes...maybe some more books? He could use some new additions in the usual nightly circulation. Joe isn’t sure how many more times he can read Green Eggs and Ham before he’s actually memorised the damn thing. Sighing and deciding he can put it off a bit longer, Joe flips to an empty page and starts mindlessly sketching the scene before him: Hakim, Amani, and Basim playing dress up and acting out a play they’re making up as they go. 

_“Wow, you’re good.”_ Jumping with a yelp, Joe turns with an accusing glare at where Ahmed is standing, his overnight bag slung over his shoulder and a tired smile on his face. Crap, how much time has passed? 

“Baba!” Hakim squeals, barreling into his father like he hasn’t seen him in weeks rather than the two days he’s actually been gone. 

_“How’s my little man been?”_ he asks, hefting Hakim onto his shoulders. Joe studiously keeps his eyes on the father and son reunion so he doesn’t see his children’s puppy eyes that will only culminate in a fight over who gets to ride his shoulders first. 

_“I got to play with Krystal lots and Mama's been sleeping lots and Basim and Amani were able to come to play!”_ Hakim chatters.

 _“I see that,”_ Ahmed comments, eyes glittering. _“And Joe was clearly keeping a close eye on you.”_ Rolling his eyes, Joe stands up with a wince, stiff after being in that position for far longer than he realised. _“I mean technically you can’t be watching people closer than when you’re drawing them,”_ Joe weakly defends.

Chuckling, Ahmed reaches for the notebook and Joe hands it to him so the other man can flip through his sketches, humming with interest as he does. _“Mind if I keep one? Based on what Zahra’s said an original Yusuf al-Kaysani sketch could be worth a lot in a few years.”_

Shrugging awkwardly Joe gestures for Ahmed to rip out what he wants and begins packing up. _“Yeah, we’ll see about that,”_ he mutters. 

When a hand clasps on his shoulder Joe looks up at where Ahmed is looking at him with kind eyes. _“You got talent, brother. And I think you’ve spent enough time with me to know I don’t fake sincerity.”_

Huffing out a laugh at the memory of their first meeting, Joe nods. _“Fair enough. We’re gonna head out but save the date for October 12th. It’s a certain pair of little monsters' birthday,”_ Joe says, grinning down at Basim and Amani’s excited faces. 

_“We’re gonna have a party! Hakim will you come?”_ Amani asks hopefully. 

Hakim peers down to his father who smiles at him. _“We wouldn’t miss it, right habibi?”_

_“Yeah!”_ he responds, nodding frantically. With that decided, the al-Kaysanis and al-Fassis exchange goodbyes and head out. Joe smiles softly as he does. It’s been nice having parent friends who speak Arabic, even if Ahmed and Zahra coming from Morocco speak a slightly different dialect than Joe and it’s been a bit of a learning curve for all of them. Since he’s moved to America, he’s been isolated from his first language outside of his conversations with his children. Monique had been getting better each year but then…

So it’s been nice is all. Though the fact that Nicky wants to learn now is bittersweet yet heartening, and it’s endearing watching the kids try to teach him. The reminder of Nicky makes him chuckle to himself. He can’t wait to find out how his mission for today goes. 

*******

“Fuck you weren’t kidding.” 

Nicky just raises an imperious eyebrow while Booker continues to stand in the doorway until, with a sigh, the teacher steps aside to let Nicky through. “You can’t survive on take out alone and if you make Nile be the only one to cook once you move in I’ll smack you with a spoon,” Nicky declares, placing his box down and standing in the middle of the apartment to survey what he’s working with. 

Booker and Nile had been taking their relationship slow as well, so they’ve only now decided it’s time to move in together. After a drawn out debate, it was decided that Booker would move into Nile’s place because “I need this lighting more than I need you” and everyone knows not to argue with an artist when it comes to lighting. While everyone else was making plans for moving Booker’s things to Nile’s place, Nicky was more fixated on an important detail he recalls from Ramadan. Which is how he’s ended up here. 

Taking in the sparsely decorated studio apartment, Nicky shakes his head. “I don’t know why you thought she would ever want to move in here,” he remarks. 

Booker stuffs his hands in his pockets and leans against a counter. “‘Cause she loves me and knows I’m lazy?” he tries. 

Rolling his eyes, Nicky bustles into the kitchen, opening and closing drawers and cupboards with disapproving tuts and knocking Booker to the side with his hip when he gets in the way. 

“Well. This is pathetic,” is his final assessment, staring down the Frenchman. 

“I told you I don’t cook,” Booker shrugs. 

“Good thing I thought to bring my own supplies,” Nicky sighs, turning to retrieve his box. “Now what’s Nile’s favourite dish?” 

Booker scratches his head. “Um, Jamaican patties? Patricia cooked it a lot when Nile was growing up.” Nicky tilts his head contemplatively before reaching for his phone. “What are you doing?” Booker asks warily. 

“Consulting an expert,” Nicky replies, selecting the contact he was searching for. “I would be a fool to try to teach you how to cook that myself.” It only rings twice before a warm voice answers. 

_Hello?_

“Hi Patricia, it’s Nicky. Are you free today?” 

_Just going to the market and then I was going to start that book you recommended me,_ she replies. 

“Think you can pick up some ingredients for Jamaican patties and then swing by Booker’s place? I’m making him learn how to cook.” 

Patricia releases a low laugh. _About time that boy learns how to make something other than a salad. I’ll be there in a half hour._

As Nicky hangs up Booker looks at him with a pained expression. “Did you just invite Patricia over?” he asks weakly. 

“Of course. She’ll be able to teach you how to make Jamaica patties better than I ever could.” Nicky cocks his head again while Booker swallows and licks his lips. “Are you...scared of her?” Nicky asks, a grin threatening to spread across his face. 

Crossing his arms Booker looks away. “I dare you not to be intimidated by that woman when you’re dating her daughter,” he grumbles. Despite his outward teasing, Nicky can’t help but commiserate, considering his own lingering feelings when it comes to her. He and Patricia have been building a relationship slowly, with Joe and him inviting her over for dinner at least once a week as “payment” for her babysitting and also so they can spend more time with her. 

Though Nicky and Patricia’s conversations revolved mostly around food and cooking at first, they’ve since expanded to book discussions and recommendations as well as their shared obsession of cooking and baking competitions. While Joe simply enjoys laughing at how passionate Nicky gets, Patricia will text him at midnight to rant about her favourite contestant being eliminated, making his bar shifts far more entertaining than usual. (It’s also very possible that Nicky has fallen in love with Toby and has to restrain himself from joining Basim and Amani in begging for a dog since Joe seems so obviously and oddly opposed to the idea.)

He was never expecting to get closer to the mother of his partner’s past wife and yet here he is. The relationship he’s building with her brings up...a lot of feelings, mostly positive if not bittersweet and painful at times. That doesn’t mean that Patricia doesn’t continue to intimidate the fuck out of him though. Any single mother who raised two incredibly competent women in the inner city of Chicago while working two jobs and volunteering on the weekends is going to be a force of nature. 

So yes, he’s still slightly terrified of her but having her swing by should be an enjoyable experience, even if they haven’t cooked the same meal together before.

*******

“Baba?”

“Yes habibti?” Joe asks, looking up from the lesson planning he’s finally started now that he doesn’t have three children being adorable as distractions. 

Amani turns to Basim and when he nods, she tilts her chin up. _“We made a list about why we should have a dog.”_

Smiling at her automatic use of Arabic, Joe sets his computer to the side with a sigh and turns on the couch so he’s fully facing them. _“Okay, let’s hear it.”_

_“Number 1: we would have something to cuddle,”_ Amani starts, raising a finger. 

_“Number 2: Cow would have a friend,”_ Basim says next, picking Cow up for emphasis while she dangles in his arms with resignation. 

_“And Toby would have a friend!”_ Amani adds, bouncing on her toes with a grin. 

_“Number…”_ Basim turns to Amani. _“Are we on number four or five?”_

Joe bites his lip as his children count with their fingers and try to backtrack what they’ve already said. 

_“I think five?”_ Amani says with uncertainty, staring at her fingers. Joe doesn’t have the heart to correct her.

 _“Number 5,”_ Basim says confidently, _“Nicky and Cow would have company when the three of us are at school.”_

At this Joe gently cuts in. _“Do you know if Nicky would like a dog though?”_

_“Of course he wants a dog! He always goes to pet dogs at the park,”_ Amani says with another failed attempt at rolling her eyes. Joe sits back, eyebrows furrowed. Obviously that could just be because the kids are begging him to pet the dogs but...perhaps he needs to have a conversation with Nicky and see what he has to say. 

_“I’ll talk to him about it, okay my little monsters?”_ Satisfied for now, Amani and Basim join Joe in the living room with their drawing supplies, and the three of them spend the rest of the afternoon in pleasant company. 

*******

What began as a lesson to Booker on some basic dishes as well as some of Nile’s favourites has turned into an all out war. 

“Which one of us is the Italian here?” Nicky says crossly as Patricia continues to insist on making the biggest culinary mistake Nicky has ever had the misfortune to witness. 

“Which one of us is the senior here?” Patricia retorts, arching a brow. 

_”More experience doesn’t mean better knowledge,”_ he grumbles to himself. 

Nicky flinches as he feels a towel flick his ear. “Don’t be muttering in Italian there child! I may not speak the language but I understand that tone well enough.”

Nicky glowers mulishly at her while Patricia looks on with amusement. _”Fine,_ ” he grits out. “We can put pineapple on the pizza.” 

“Thank god that’s resolved,” Booker mutters from where he’s curled up on the couch with his nose in a book. 

“Get your lazy ass back in here!” Nicky and Patrica bark, making Booker jump up with wide eyes. 

“Right- yes- coming!” he stutters out while Nicky and Patricia swap satisfied smirks. By the end of the day they’ll have him cooking without the fire alarm going off without a doubt. 

*******

**Nicky** _Sorry love I many not be able to make it to dinner tonight- there have been a couple of delays with teaching Booker how to work a kitchen_

Joe sets aside his work to study the text with a mixture of amusement and apprehension.

 **Me** _Do I want to know?_

 **Nicky** _...it’s a long story_

 **Me** _Looking forward to hearing about it *grinning face with squinting eyes*_

 **Nicky** _*weary face*_

Chuckling, Joe sets aside his phone and looks up at where Amani and Basim are practicing their ABCs. _“Nicky won’t be joining us for dinner so looks like you’ll have to suffer through my cooking,”_ he informs them. He tries not to talk to the twins in Arabic when Nicky's around so as not to exclude him, but with Nicky out and their playdate with Hakim fresh in their minds, Amani and Basim have been in an Arabic-speaking mood all day to his delight. 

_“Why not?”_ Amani asks, pouting. _“He’s not working tonight!”_

 _“Seems like he’s gotten held up at Booker’s, helping him learn to cook,”_ Joe says with an amused chuckle. 

Basim tilts his head. _“Then does that mean Auntie will be eating alone?”_

 _“We should invite her to eat with us!”_ Amani exclaims. Heart warming at how thoughtful his kids are, Joe raises a finger and turns back to his phone. 

**Me** _Is Nile coming over there for dinner?_

 **Nicky** _IN WHAT UNIVERSE WOULD THAT MAN BE READY TO COOK THAT POOR WOMAN ANYTHING?_

Chuckling Joe writes back. 

**Me** _Understood babe. Good luck with your battle against the incompetent Frenchman chef_

 **Nicky** _*middle finger*_

With a snort Joe opens up his chat with Nile. 

**Me** _Heard you might be free tonight while your loverboy learns how to cook_

 **Nile** _Call him loverboy again and I’ll buy Amani and Basim Lyons jerseys and you know they’ll wear anything their Auntie gives them_

 **Me** _You’re a cruel cruel woman_

 **Me** _Want to come over for dinner?_

 **Nile** _Be there in 10_

10 minutes later Joe, Amani, and Basim are dancing and cooking to the Tarzan soundtrack (they’ve moved past their multi-month-long Moana phase, Alhamdulillah) when the apartment door opens. “Looks like there’s a party going on over here,” Nile grins. While Basim and Amani rush over to Nile to hug her, Joe lowers the burner and wipes his hands on a towel. 

“Glad you could make it,” Joe says, joining the group hug. 

When they all step away Nile snorts, spotting their aprons. “At least you’re self-aware enough to know you’re only the boss, not the _real_ boss,” she remarks to Joe with a smirk. Basim and Amani giggle before dragging Nile over to the “art wall” to show off their latest drawings. Of course, the art wall is nearly every wall space of the apartment so they mostly tour her around everywhere while Joe returns to making the quesadillas. 

As Nile finishes oohing and ahhing at their artwork, “Trashin’ the Camp” turns on and she jumps into the kitchen to twirl Joe and get him to dance with that enthusiasm he hopes she never loses. With a laugh, Joe turns off the burner (the food was about ready anyway) and the kitchen becomes a stage for a dance party. Soon spoons and pots are whipped out to add to the percussion while they all take turns spinning each other around. 

“I see we’re having dinner and a show,” an amused voice comments. Whipping around, Joe beams as he sees Nicky, Booker, and Patricia enter the apartment carrying a box and some bags. While Basim and Amani work to drag Booker into the dance despite his half-hearted protests, Joe grabs Nicky’s hands and starts singing the nonsense words to him. Though he looks mortified at first, when Nicky spots everyone making a fool of themselves, even Patricia joining the fun, he starts to relax and soon starts swinging his hips. Chuckling at Nicky’s awkward attempts to groove, Joe places one hand on his shoulder and the other through Nicky’s fingers and starts leading him in an energized and wild and utterly uncoordinated dance. It couldn’t be more perfect. 

By the time they finally sit down to eat, dinner’s gone cold but no one can bring themselves to care, still riding high from the impromptu dance party. Fortunately Booker, Patricia, and Nicky brought the salvageable food from their cooking adventure with them, so the quesadillas are eaten with a side of half-burnt pineapple pizza, soggy Jamaican patties, and overcooked roasted chicken. Joe smiles softly as he watches Nicky and Patricia banter and make thinly veiled criticisms about each other’s cooking and teaching abilities while trying to disguise their grins. He’s so ecstatic that the two of them are getting along and bonding; Nicky deserves a positive relationship with an elder. Booker just looks on with resignation. “They’ve been like this all day,” he grumbles, slumping in his chair. He straightens and raises his hands defensively a moment later when Booker's shot matching glares. 

“I think it’s worth it if this is the final product,” Nile moans around a piece of mostly edible roasted chicken. At the compliment Booker softens, a disarmed smile crossing his lips. Joe watches the exchange fondly. In retrospect he doesn’t know how he missed the fact that they were together, though it could be because he was so wrapped up in his own world. It took a babysitter turned friend turned something more to draw him out of the hole he dug for himself and notice the life happening around him. He was just always worried and fixated about doing right by his kids, Joe hadn’t really paid attention to much else. A familiar surge of love and gratitude shoots through him and below the table Joe clasps Nicky’s hand. Nicky pauses his rant against the evils of pineapple pizza long enough to shoot Joe a dazzling smile and twine their fingers together with a squeeze. 

“Nicky Mouse I dunno why you don’t like it, I think it’s yummy,” Basim shrugs, gnawing on some slightly burnt crust. 

Nicky releases a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest and leaning back in his chair. “How could you betray me like this Basi?”

Giggling Amani stands up in her chair, placing her hands on the table and declaring, “Not me Nicky Mouse I think it’s gross!” Nicky mimes wiping sweat off his face like the dork he is and _Allah_ is Joe in love. 

“I’m sorry Amani, I have to side with Basim for this one,” Joe says with a wink to his boy, smiling at Basim’s toothy grin. 

Nicky turns to Joe, face solemn. “Be very careful caro, I take opinions on pineapple pizza very seriously in my relationships.” 

“And I take the permanent removal of cargo pants seriously in mine Nico, so we all need to make sacrifices,” Joe quips, grinning at Nicky’s pout. As a debate on the pros and cons of pineapple pizza and cargo pants begins in earnest, Joe sits back and soaks up the atmosphere of laughter, joy, and family. Fuck, is he lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was...so hard to find a movie that didn’t have at least one scene that wouldn’t terrify a pair of five year olds...like wtf Disney?? Anyway I ended up going with Tarzan because Joe 100% sings “You’ll Be in My Heart” and tells the kids that their mum is singing the song too while she watches over them. Just imagine that Nicky and Joe shield the kids’ eyes and mute the TV at the scary parts. 
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to my students who have…strong opinions when it comes to pineapple pizza. 
> 
> Glossary (as always please let me know if I should make any corrections):
> 
>  _Masā’ al-khair:_ a phrase used to say “good afternoon” or “good evening.”  
>  _Msa'annur_ : The response if someone says “masā’ al-khair” (thank you for the correction **minstorai!**  
>  _As-salam alaykom:_ a more formal greeting that means “peace be upon you”  
>  _Wa Alykom As-slam:_ the typical response to “as-salam alaykom”  
>  _Wallahi_ literally means "and God" but as an expression is similar to "seriously/honestly??"  
>  _Ya rab:_ means"oh God" and can used when asking for encouragement or strength  
>  _Alhamdulillah:_ Thank God


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basim and Amani celebrate their birthday and later, it's Joe's turn to hold Nicky up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Important Update please read! (I know it’s long…)**
> 
> I want to own up to some errors I've made in depicting my Muslim characters and outline how I'm trying to fix them. Essentially, I failed to take in account the fact that there are a wide variety of Arabic dialects when I was looking up how to say mum, grandma, and grandpa as well as when choosing names and Zahra’s home country. I’ve done some more digging and believe I have the correct terms for mum, grandma, and grandpa in the Tunisian Arabic dialect and have gone back and changed them. 
> 
> While I was doing my research I came to understand that Arabic dialects in the Middle East are vastly different than those spoken in Northern Africa (which seems obvious in retrospect since they’re spoken in completely different continents...) So in order to continue the plotline that Joe is able to converse rather fluently with Zahra’s family, I’m altering their origin from Iran to Morocco.
> 
> This brought me to a whole other issue though: names. Given the fact that the Arabic world is so vast, I realise I really should’ve made sure that there was evidence of people with the names I’ve given my characters in the countries I’ve placed them in.
> 
> After doing some more research and failing to find evidence of historical or current Tunisians named Rawiya or Muslim Moroccans named Amir, I have changed these names. I also altered Hakeem’s spelling to Hakim which seems to be the more common version of the name. I was able to find Tunisians named Amani and Basim fortunately, though Basim is more commonly spelled Bassim. Since this is a small difference and Basim is mentioned multiple times per chapter, I won’t be changing this. I was able to find evidence of Moroccans named Zahra and Tunisians named Mehdi so I won’t be changing those names either. 
> 
> (While I was at it I did double check that Patricia would be a name found in Jamaica since I had made Patricia’s parents from there in my head, which is why Patricia made Jamaican patties a lot when Nile and Monique were growing up.) 
> 
> In short, here’s the updated list of names and origins:
> 
> Rawiya → Leila  
> Amir→ Ahmed  
> Hakeem→ Hakim  
> Zahra, Ahmed, and Hakeem al-Fassi are now from Morocco. (I’m borrowing their surname from a badass lady named Malika al-Fassi to ensure I’m using a Moroccan surname.)
> 
> Please forgive my ignorance, mistakes, and failure to take all of this in account while creating these characters. I’m sorry if this causes any confusion; I just really want to honour these characters’ ethnicities and origins as I should have from the start.
> 
> FINALLY (as if this note wasn’t long enough) **chapter warning** for allusions to child abuse/neglect, past internalised homophobia, and bullying (none of which is explored in any explicit detail). There is also a portrayal of a character experiencing a panic attack from this history, which, as always, leads to lotsa cuddles and love. 
> 
> Thank you for reading this long ass note! And without further adieu, I give you chapter 13!

“Zahra,” Joe says calmly, _”What is your husband wearing?”_

Zahra looks pained as she watches Ahmed chat with Andy near the birthday cake. _“Apparently your partner convinced my partner that cargo pants are an essential parental item,”_ she says with defeat.

Ignoring the fluttering in his chest at the word “parental” in association with Nicky, Joe turns an accusing glare to the man in question. Pausing mid-sip of his kool-aid Nicky blinks. “What?” 

“Wallahi Nicky isn’t it bad enough that there’s _one_ of you?” Joe whines, gesturing emphatically at the baggy cargo pants Nicky is currently wearing. “Ahmed actually had _style!_ We were _style_ buddies! How did you convince a businessman who spends most of his days wearing sleek suits to put on _that?!”_ he exclaims, voice turning shrill as he points accusingly at Ahmed’s attire. 

Nicky just shoots him a smug look. “Pockets Joe. Pockets,” he says with a self-satisfied smirk before walking away. 

“I swear I’m gonna tear our apartment apart until I find every last pair and then I’m gonna burn them and scatter their ashes to the wind,” Joe grumbles. 

_“Said like a man in love,”_ Zahra snorts, eyes sparkling. Joe sputters, feeling his ears warm before he retreats to brood in the corner with Booker. 

“Do I want to know?” Booker asks with an arched brow as he cradles his pacific cooler caprisun with two hands. Joe releases a noncommittal sound before surveying the party. Since Andy and Quỳnh are actual adults they have a house and yard and were kind enough to lend it out to Joe. With the heart of Autumn right around the corner, Amani and Basim wanted to have a chance to play outside for their birthday and Joe had absolutely no problems with that, especially since he gets to see Nicky in the ratty uni hoodie he’s officially stolen from Joe. 

When they first arrived and the twins spotted the Paw Patrol plates, napkins, cake, and party hats, they were understandably excited and that was just the start. Between overseeing pin the tail on Marshall, participating in the obligatory schmoozing of parents, and guarding the cake against greedy fingers before it was sliced, Joe hasn’t really stopped all afternoon.

Speaking of...Joe chuckles as he spots Amani and Basim begging for a second piece of cake from a seemingly heartless Andy. Leaving Booker to his brooding corner, Joe navigates around the various children scattered through the grass until he makes it to the cake stand. “Think you two are ready for presents?” Joe asks once he reaches them. At the magic word, the cake is forgotten as the kids race over to their stack of gifts, party hat slipping off Amani’s head in her eagerness. 

Nicky comes up behind him and wraps an arm around Joe as everyone gravitates to the party people. “You sure this is a good idea?” Joe asks, watching Amani and Basim play rocks paper scissors to decide who gets to open the first joint gift.

“We’ve talked this through tesoro, I’ve always wanted one and you know they’ll take this responsibility seriously. You raised them right,” Nicky soothes, kissing his cheek. Joe releases a breath, trusting that Nicky knows what he’s talking about. 

Joe’s lingering anxiety over his gift to Amani and Basim only amplifies as he witnesses what his family has given them however. While Andy and Quỳnh bought Amani and Basim their very own Paw Patrol cups to bring to the bar, Booker got them beginner’s reader French books and Nile got them art kits. Meanwhile Patricia bought an honest to god CD player with Disney melody and Moana CDs. Fuck, these assholes are so damn thoughtful. They’re gonna make Joe look _so_ bad. 

The only silver lining is that the gifts from Amani and Basim’s friends are pretty generic, varying from toys to books and clothes and making Joe relieved that he didn’t go down any of those routes. 

Soon it’s Nicky’s turn to shift uneasily as Amani and Basim turn to the final four objects, having saved Nicky’s and Joe’s gifts for last. Eagerly, they both unwrap Nicky’s gifts to reveal bound and laminated books, Amani’s with a yellow cover and Basim’s with purple to match their favourite colours. They have the kids’ names and “First Cookbook” written in Nicky’s remarkable calligraphy on the front covers. Nicky crouches down between the children and reads the titles to them before flipping through each page to display photos and handwritten recipes of their favourite meals to make. “You two are gonna be readers before you know it so I thought it was time you both get cookbooks of your own,” Nicky explains with a smile. 

Joe’s heart warms at the way both kids beam and hug Nicky, the way Nicky buries his nose in their hair to return the embrace. When Nicky first suggested the gift idea, Joe knew the kids would be utterly ecstatic, but he wasn’t expecting the amount of time and care Nicky would place into making the books. He could have easily typed up the recipes but Nicky shrugged off that suggestion the one and only time Joe brought it up. “I learned this skill in a dark time,” he murmured, head bowed as he worked on one of Basim’s pages. “I want to use it to bring a little light into the world.” 

Nicky never fails to make Joe speechless. 

Drawn from his memories, Joe bites his lip as the kids turn to the final two items in the pile. When Amani and Basim open the small packages they both study their gifts with confusion. Taking a breath Joe kneels in front of them. “This is a collar and a leash,” he explains. “For the dog we’re gonna pick out together.” 

Joe’s breath is subsequently knocked out of his chest as his kids tackle him. “Thank you Baba!” Basim exclaims. 

“I promise we’ll walk her and feed her and play with her and be her best friends!!” Amani rushes out. 

“I believe you,” Joe chuckles. 

“Who says we’re getting a girl dog?” Basim says, turning to his sister with a frown.

“‘Cause I want a girl dog!” Amani retorts, lifting her chin. 

Before this can devolve into a full on argument, Joe intervenes. “We’ll look at the shelter website together and decide from there, okay?” 

Both children turn from their standoff with each other to give Joe another hug. “Okay Baba!” 

Returning to study the blue collar in her hand and the black leash in Basim’s Amani comments, “Do you think we can get other colours?” Joe exchanges a bemused glance with Nicky. So it begins. 

*******

Nicky grins at the reverent way Basim and Amani place their cookbooks next to Nicky’s own stack before they both rush to Joe’s computer. “Slow down little monsters the dogs aren’t going anywhere!” Joe laughs as he and Nicky lug in all the other gifts and party supplies. As he does Nicky has to restrain himself from hurrying over with the kids. He’s wanted a dog all his life but one would never have been allowed anywhere near his parents’ pristine home and none of his apartments over the years were pet friendly. So Nicky was ecstatic when Joe broached the topic of getting a dog with him a few weeks ago. That ridiculous man actually thought Nicky wouldn’t want to go through the “trouble” of looking after a dog while Joe works. Meanwhile Nicky is trying to control the fluttering in his stomach at the feeling of permanence that comes with owning a dog, even if Joe is the one buying him or her. Nicky’s living here now and will be helping care for the dog too, so part of him can’t help but feel like this is a step all four of them are making together.

The kids have been practically vibrating from excitement since they opened their final gifts, but as they all pile onto the couch together, they face the hard part: choosing a dog from the shelter page. 

“She’s cute.”

“He is too.”

“Look at her floppy ears!”

“I like his white stripes.”

Joe shoots Nicky a despairing look over the heads of the two children scrolling through literally every single profile but he only arches a brow in response and continues to serenely stroke Cow. Nicky _tried_ suggesting they narrow the choices down for the kids given the pool day shopping spree that will live in infamy but Joe is hopeless when it comes to his kids. 

“She has sad eyes,” Basim whispers. Tuning back in, Nicky leans over to see both kids gazing at a grey dog that looks at least part pitbull and who has a white stripe down her face with ears perked up. Damn, those eyes are sad. 

“Yeah she needs a friend,” Amani nods firmly. “Baba can we get her?” she asks, looking at Joe with those patented puppy eyes both men are vulnerable to. Damn, with a dog there would be three pairs of them Nicky realises with dawning horror. Joe and Nicky will never survive. 

“Basi?” Joe prompts, turning to his son. When Basim nods too, Joe pulls the laptop into his lap. “We have to set up an appointment and fill out an application which means we’re gonna have to wait and we may not get her even if we _really_ want her so I need you two to keep that in mind, k?” he rambles as he chooses an appointment slot. 

“Yes Baba,” is the chorused response. 

“We’re gonna get a _dog!”_ Basim squeals, rolling to his knees and grinning at Amani. 

“We should come up with some names!” Amani declares. 

As the kids scurry to their new chalkboard so they can brainstorm names, Nicky bridges the vacated space so he’s pressed up to Joe. “Don’t say it,” Joe grumbles, keeping his eyes trained on his computer. 

Nicky lifts Joe’s wrist so he can study his watch. “Don’t mind me caro I was just trying to figure out how many hours have passed since they started looking at the site,” he muses with exaggerated contemplation. 

Joe shoots him a flat look. “You’re an asshole,” he says under his breath so little ears don’t hear. 

“An asshole you loooove,” Nicky sings in Joe’s ear before pecking his cheek. He grins as Joe’s scowl melts away and he snuggles up beside Nicky, leaning his head on his shoulder.

“I clearly have poor taste in men,” Joe sighs, laughing as Nicky flicks his ear in reproach. 

“Rude.” 

Joe tilts his head back so their eyes meet. “Love you,” he grins, and _oh_ how is Nicky expected _not_ to kiss him when he says that?

“Want to help me with dinner?” Nicky asks several moments later when Joe has slid down far enough that his head is resting in Nicky’s lap.

“Hmm. That would require losing my pillow and my scalp massager,” Joe remarks, eyes closed with contentment as Nicky strokes through his hair.

“I should have known that’s all you wanted me for,” Nicky says with a long sigh, deliberately drawing his hands away. His lips twitch when Joe pouts and once again how is Nicky supposed to be able to resist kissing him?

“I suppose I could be convinced to let you up if there will be more kisses in my future,” Joe muses once they break away. 

“Spoiled,” Nicky says fondly, belying his point by leaning down for another kiss. With Amani and Basim still occupied with brainstorming names and playing with all their new toys, Nicky drags Joe up despite his dramatic groaning. “Ridiculous man,” Nicky huffs. 

“The ridiculous man you love,” Joe says with a wink before linking their hands and swinging them back and forth like a dork as they walk the three feet into the kitchen. God he loves him. 

It’s a drawn out debate regarding what they should make tonight, but ultimately they decide on one of Joe’s favourite stir frys that always manages to catch Nicky’s mouth on fire. “We gotta properly train you for next year’s Ramadan Nico. Don’t think I haven’t noticed which Tunisian dishes you’ve been avoiding,” Joe teases. He has never let Nicky live down the fact that he wasn’t expecting nor was he prepared for the amount of spice that is apparently in a lot of Tunisian cuisine. While he rolls his eyes though Nicky’s chest warms. Ramadan isn’t for several months and yet Joe is already talking about the holiday like it’s a given Nicky will still be around. Fuck, he’s gonna do everything in his power to make it so. 

Nicky mentally fortifies himself when Joe takes out his phone to set up his bluetooth though. Since the impromptu dance party a few weeks ago Joe has taken every opportunity to beg Nicky for a dance, but he’s always refused. He can tell by the way that Joe’s smile slightly dims before he turns to Amani and Basim with the same offer that Nicky’s rejection hurts him but it’s not about Joe. Nicky’s just...not _used_ to being so _uninhibited._ As a child it was expected of him to be quiet and unobtrusive. If it was possible for his parents to turn him invisible and mute he’s sure they would. (Sometimes he wonders why they had a child at all.) 

Shaking himself out of his melancholy thoughts, Nicky accepts Joe’s outstretched hand but uses it to draw Joe into a hug. “You okay ya amar?” Joe whispers, nuzzling his neck. Nicky takes a shaky breath, soaking in Joe’s warmth and citrusy scent. Nothing like the stale smell of burnt coffee and cleaning products that infused his childhood. He always found that ironic; how adamant his parents were with keeping the house spotless yet their simultaneous indifference with drinking burnt coffee. He’s sure the meals would’ve been burnt too if they didn’t pay for someone to cook them. 

One of the first things he did with Andy and Quỳnh’s encouragement once he finally escaped was learn how to cook. It felt like a bigger rebellion than running away from seminary had been, even when Nicky burned half of what he made those first few months. Each time his fire alarm would go off in his shitty apartment Nicky would smile to himself, imagining his parents’ look of horror at their son stooping so low as to cook his own food. 

Nicky is jolted out of his memories by two pairs of arms wrapping around his legs, and he finally registers the long artist’s fingers that have been stroking through his hair as Nicky clung to Joe’s back. “We wanted hugs too Nicky Mouse,” Basim informs him. 

Blinking away the spectres of his past, Nicky crouches down and turns himself so he can give Amani and Basim proper hugs. “Have you come up with a name yet?” he rasps around a throat that’s burning from restrained tears. 

“Not yet,” Amani sighs. “There are just _so_ many!” 

“Well why don’t you little monsters get back to it while me and Nicky start on dinner, hm?” Joe suggests affably, making Nicky grimace, guilt writhing in his gut like a snake and the familiar bile of self-loathing coating his tongue. He knows Joe’s ushering them out on his account. Always a nuisance, always an inconvenience. Nicky stands up and stares sightlessly at where Amani and Basim put their heads together as they hurry away, his shoulders hunching in a futile attempt to make him look smaller. It was always futile. Could never seem to get small enough. “You didn’t have to do that,” he mutters. “I’m sor-” 

“Hey!” Joe says to cut him off. Nicky flinches and soon his vision is taken up by Joe, face twisted with remorse. “Hey,” he repeats softly, reaching out a hand that Nicky recoils from as his breath starts to speed up. Wrong move. Gonna regret that. Nicky keeps his eyes down and to the side as he stiffens, braces for the inevitable. “Wanna talk about where you went?” Joe asks softly after a beat, fingers twitching at his waist like he wants to reach out but is giving Nicky space to bridge the gap. 

Pathetic gratitude at Joe’s restraint helps Nicky blink himself out of his haze enough to study those fingers, bitten and calloused and as far from his parents’ perfectly manicured and ghostly white hands as possible. And suddenly the small distance seems too painful to bear, too similar to memories of that barren cold childhood, and he collides into Joe’s chest once more. “Hey, hey, I’m here,” Joe croons as Nicky clings to his back like he’ll disappear at any moment, like Nicky will open his eyes and find himself surrounded by white walls and stiff furniture instead of walls covered in art and colour and sagging furniture covered in paint and- _fuck._ Nicky sucks in a desperate breath, realising he had been holding it for far too long. 

“Me and Nicky are gonna step aside to fold some laundry in our room since we seem to lack the proper floor space to do it out here at the moment,” Joe calls out to the kids amiably, turning off the music Nicky hadn’t even registered and guiding Nicky towards their room. Nicky allows himself to be manhandled, shuffling beside him numb as he wallows in another failure. All Joe wanted was to dance and look at him. Can’t even do that right. “Holler if you need us,” Joe adds before closing the door on the kids who haven’t even looked up from where they are coloring with their new art kits. 

Nicky lets himself be gently prodded until he’s sat on the bed, but when Joe moves to step away Nicky tightens his grip on Joe’s arm while his eyes remain trained on Joe’s socked feet. Mismatching socks would never be a sight in his home. Socks at all really. High heels and oxfords were worn nearly 24/7. “Okay, okay I’m not going anywhere,” Joe soothes. A second later Nicky feels the bed shift as Joe sits on it and leans against their pillows before wrapping his arms around Nicky and guiding him to be pressed to his chest. “I’m right here Nico,” Joe whispers into his ear. “Sono qui.”

Nicky closes his eyes, feeling a tear silently fall down his face as Joe’s arms work to glue his fractured and fragmented pieces back together. Hearing Joe’s limited Italian should bring him back to that prison of white but it doesn’t, same with whenever Joe calls him Nicolò. That name sits like a caress on Joe’s tongue rather than like something disdainful, something to be disappointed by. And his parents would never dream of shortening his name to Nicky, let alone Nico. 

He doesn’t know how long they remain like that, Nicky following the steady rise and fall of Joe’s chest as Joe hums a song that sounds faintly familiar. It takes another moment for Nicky to focus long enough on the melody to realise what it is. When he does he releases a wet laugh. “Are you singing _You’ll Be in My Heart?_ ” he croaks. 

Joe abruptly stops and Nicky can feel the sheepishness rising up from him without even turning. “It doesn’t _just_ have to be a song to kids you know,” Joe mumbles defensively. 

Nicky’s lips twitch as he looks down at their midnight blue duvet. “Doesn’t she call him small?” 

“Well you are the shorter of the two of us Nico,” Joe teases, causing Nicky to bark out a laugh at the familiar argument before it suddenly devolves into wracking sobs. “Shit,” Joe breathes, turning Nicky so that his face is pressed to Joe’s chest. “I’m here hayati, I’ve got you.” Nicky doesn’t know why something so simple throws him over the edge, only is aware that he can’t seem to find his way back to shore. He tries to calm his breathing, quiet his sobs but each time he thinks he has a hold on himself it starts all over. 

“ _Fuck,_ ” Nicky hisses, squeezing his eyes tightly shut in despairing shame. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck _fuck.”_ He can’t remember the last time he cried like this. Not sure if he ever has. Crying was frowned upon in his household. One of the many things frowned upon, including Nicky’s general existence. The reminder seems to intensify his sobs until Nicky’s breath is coming in short gasping puffs and he can’t see past the tears clouding his vision. 

He registers distantly Joe’s frantic voice as he rubs Nicky’s back and arms while Nicky soaks his jumper. “Breathe for me Nico, breathe for me. Five things you see, hm? Can you do that for me?” Nicky’s abruptly thrown back to that scene in the kitchen almost a year ago, Joe’s eyes wide and wet with panic as Nicky gently guided him back from the precipice. 

Still gasping, Nicky turns his head so he remains fully pressed to Joe’s chest but can see to the side. It takes several attempts to get his voice to work but eventually Nicky whispers, “The gift your kids gave you for your birthday.” Still on the bedside in a clear case Nicky bought to keep it from getting spilled on. 

“Good hayati,” Joe says with a stroke through his hair. “Got four more for me?” 

Blinking past the tears still streaming down his cheeks Nicky rasps, “That ugly lamp I keep trying to get you to throw out.” Buoyed by Joe’s huff of laughter Nicky shifts back to his earlier position with his back pressed to Joe’s chest so he can see the rest of the room, Joe’s arms wrapped around him anchoring Nicky from drifting away. “The desk as buried in shit as I’m sure your work desk is,” he says weakly, and now he can feel the curve of Joe’s smile against his neck. Taking a shuddering breath Nicky’s eyes flick up. “The gift I got you,” he breathes, staring at the calligraphy he practiced in the dark of night as a boy. The one thing he managed to hide from them. He mouths the words of the excerpt numbly.

_You may shoot me with your words,  
You may cut me with your eyes,  
You may kill me with your hatefulness,  
But still, like air, I’ll rise._

As he finishes reading the stanza Nicky’s sobs renew, the words stabbing him in the chest so poignantly he doubles over. He never felt this way the countless times Joe has recited the poem to Nicky or gushed about it at length. So why do those four lines seem to claw through his heart all of a sudden? Had he buried the haunting memory of their cold eyes and curled lips so well?

"It’s okay Nico, it’s okay. One more thing you see for me, one more,” Joe urges, turning Nicky into his arms once again. 

Blinking rapidly Nicky stares at Joe’s face- those brows furrowed and full lips pinched with concern, those eyes that seem to hold an entire ocean of emotion- and he finds himself echoing Joe’s response all those months ago. “You.” 

Joe nods, hands stroking Nicky’s arms up and down, up and down, grounding him. “Good my love just like that. Four things you feel?” 

“Your sweatshirt,” Nicky whispers, soothed by the stretched sleeves brushing over his hands. 

“I think it can be argued that it’s yours by now ya amar,” Joe says with a soft smile as he pulls the hood over Nicky’s head, stroking a hand through Nicky’s hair under it. “What else?” Nicky closes his eyes, feeling surrounded by Joe’s love as he always does when he’s burrowed within the sweatshirt he’s shamelessly stolen. 

Latching onto those faint tendrils of humour Joe reached out with he adds, “The cargo pants you secretly like.” Another huff of laughter as Joe noses inside the hood to nuzzle Nicky’s neck. A familiar gesture Nicky utterly adores. “Your nose.” Shimmying down so he can press an ear to Joe’s chest Nicky relaxes more as he hears that steady thrum, as Joe strokes his hands along Nicky’s back. “Your chest.” 

“You’re doing great Nico. What about three things you hear?” Joe rumbles.

A pause as he strains his ears. “The kids playing music on Patricia’s gift. Cow meowing.” Closing his eyes Nicky releases a shaky sigh, slumping further into Joe’s chest as he feels the faint edges of his calm. “Your heart.” 

“Two things you smell?” Joe asks, kissing the top of Nicky’s head, a warmth he feels through the hood.

The tears have finally stopped as Nicky breathes in deeply and focuses on what he catches. Joe’s citrus and lemon scent that soothes Nicky, the incense Nicky had at his old place that Joe always keeps a refill here, and detergent. Only one kind of detergent now that they do their laundry together, now that their lives have entwined. Blinking his eyes open Nicky smiles into space. “You. And me.” 

Another kiss on his head, this one lingering longer. “One thing you taste?” Joe prompts softly.

At this Nicky rises up until he blindly finds Joe’s lips. “You,” he breathes, the gentle kiss chasing away the final spectres of his past. Joe tries to draw away, tries to talk, but Nicky pushes forward once more and grips Joe’s knitted jumper, desperate to erase that taste of shame with this, with _him-_ a man whose every cell and every molecule and every _fibre_ of his being is made up of kindness and love and gentleness. Eventually Joe gives up on talking and kisses Nicky back, stroking and squeezing and grounding him as he does. Yes. This. This is his reality. This is his present. This can be his future. 

Nicky doesn’t know how long they remain there, Joe's lips the final piece bringing him back into himself, but it must have been awhile because eventually the door opens. 

“You didn’t fold the laundry Baba!” Amani accuses. 

Nicky breaks away and presses his head to Joe’s shoulder, mentally fortifying himself in an effort to act composed in front of the children. “That’s my fault Amani, I distracted him,” Nicky says weakly, keeping his back to the door. 

“Are you okay Nicky Mouse?” Fuck. Joe is clearly far more skilled at putting on a brave face for the kids. Nicky slumps. Amani and Basim need someone stable, someone strong in their lives. Not a mess like him. 

Two smaller weights are added to the bed and Amani and Basim snuggle on either side of Nicky. “It’s okay to be sad Nicky Mouse,” Basim whispers, clasping his tiny hand in Nicky’s. Nicky stares at it dumbly, recalling how scared and shy the boy was when they first met.

“Yeah Baba says it takes strength to let yourself cry and crying can make you feel better. Would crying help Nicky?” Amani asks shyly. Nicky looks back at Joe, panic clawing at his chest at the prospect of revealing how weak he truly is to these two children who mean the world to him.

“You’ve seen Baba cry lots before, haven’t you my sweet monsters?” Joe prompts without taking his gaze off of Nicky. Nicky’s eyes widen at the admission. 

“Uh huh and the best part of crying is that we get to cuddle and eat ice cream!” Amani chirps. “Want me to get the ice cream?” 

Finally tearing his gaze from Joe, Nicky smiles ruefully down at Amani. “We can’t spoil our appetite. And I should really get started on dinner.” 

“Or we can have ice cream for dinner and order some pizza for dessert,” Joe counters. 

“I’ll get the ice cream!” Amani calls, leaping off the bed. 

“No _I_ wanna get the ice cream!” Basim retorts as he chases after his sister.

“You okay?” Joe asks once they leave. 

Nicky looks away. “Well I’m not crying anymore,” he says stiffly. 

“You can cry as long as you need,” Joe says, voice firm before he falters. “Can we talk later tonight?” Nicky slumps. “We don’t have to, I just don’t want to cause you so much distress again,” Joe says, voice cracking.

“No Joe it wasn’t you,” Nicky says fervently, cupping Joe’s cheeks and finally out of his head enough to notice Joe’s tormented expression. Sighing, Nicky presses his forehead against Joe’s. “Yeah. We can talk.” Joe has never pried when it comes to Nicky’s past, never asked for more than Nicky’s vague allusions and that one burst of honesty after Joe’s panic attack so early in their acquaintance. He respected Nicky’s insistence that his life started when Andy and Quỳnh entered it, even though Nicky could sense the questions that burned behind Joe’s eyes. 

And he’s been grateful, relieved...a coward. 

It’s time. If they’re going to make this work, Joe deserves to know all the dark corners of Nicky’s mind. And if he walks away...well, Nicky can hardly blame him.

“No no no- no ice cream in the bed!” Joe yelps as Amani and Basim trot back, cheerfully juggling several pints in their arms. The curse of living with four people with four different favourite ice creams. 

With a weak chuckle Nicky slides off the bed and feels the tension that begins creeping up immediately dissipate when Joe follows him and links their fingers together. “Couch, yes loves? And maybe a movie?” Joe asks.

Nicky blinks and the next thing he knows Amani and Basim are curled on either side of him while Joe’s arm is wrapped around Nicky’s shoulders. Spreading the blanket across their laps Nicky admired the first day he entered this apartment (which Nicky has since learned was crocheted by Mehdi) Joe turns on the TV as everyone digs into their ice cream. “What do we think?” Joe hums, scanning through the watchlist. “WALL-E? Spirit? Home?”

“He looks funny,” Basim giggles, pointing at the icon for Home. 

“What’s it about?” Nicky asks, voice strained as he stares at those four letters. 

Joe squints as he reads the synopsis. “A lovable misfit from another planet meets a girl named Tip. The two unlikely friends embark on the greatest journey of all time...the journey HOME.”

Nicky blinks, feeling his eyes burn once more. “Sounds perfect.”

*******

Later that night Joe and Nicky are in their bed once more and in a common position for them: Joe at Nicky’s back with both arms wrapped around him. Holding him together as always. It would be easier, Nicky had explained while avoiding Joe’s eyes. If he didn’t have to look at Joe as he spoke. The reason remained unnamed. He didn’t want to watch the play of emotions on that far too expressive face, see revulsion or contempt or, god forbid, pity. 

And so, as they lay pressed together, as Nicky feels the solid thrum of Joe’s heart, Nicky tells him. Tells him about the glass dollhouse he called home. Tells him about the cruelty Nicky inflicted on other boys at school, so desperate and terrified and confused and _helpless._ Not that it was an excuse. Tells Joe what happened that day his parents came home unexpectedly early from a vacation he was not invited to, a day he’s tried very hard to forget. Tells him the regret he feels till this day at the way he treated the poor boy caught in the crossfire of a bitter hateful old man and his gay son suddenly and violently thrown out of the closet. How he wishes so desperately to make it right. 

Eventually Nicky runs out of words, runs out of tears until his shoulders only shake with dry and silent sobs. And he waits. Waits for the judgment to come. 

Joe is quiet for a while, but his breathing is too deliberate and his arms too stiff for him to be at ease. Nicky braces himself, sobs renewing as he prepares to be removed from Joe’s arms, from his home, from his life. A man as good as Joe could never live with someone as broken and cruel and dark as Nicky.

“I love you.” 

Nicky’s breath stutters and he turns in Joe’s arms, sure that he misheard. His eyes roam across Joe’s face but emotions are cycling too fast for him to catch them. A thumb swipes along one of Nicky’s tear stained cheeks. “I love you Nicolò di Genova,” he declares, quiet yet firm. “I love you with your pain and your mistakes and your regrets. Nothing you have done, nothing you have experienced can dim my love for you. Because amongst all that darkness is a heart and soul that is _good,”_ he states, pressing a hand against Nicky’s racing heart for emphasis. “It has been broken by those who should have sworn to protect it. Yet it is beautiful with each scar and bruise because it has still remained whole.” 

Nicky shakes his head. “But I-“

“You made mistakes,” Joe nods, blunt yet still so kind. “You were cruel.” With a sigh Joe presses their foreheads together. “And you were a child. You were a child scared and alone and isolated who had no guidance to show him how to be better, no support system to help you.” Joe draws away, hands framing Nicky’s face and eyes fierce. “But you did become better Nicolò. You are not that scared callous boy anymore. You are a man who holds me through panic attacks and grasps Basim’s hand through his anxiety and validates Amani’s exuberance and who loves and protects those around him with more passion and fervor than a lion.”

“I’m still scared,” Nicky whispers, the admission he has kept close to his heart slipping out. “I’m scared I could become him again.” 

“No man who will spend hours and days to give two children handmade recipe books has the capacity to be cruel. No man who has guided eager hands with patience and steadiness as he welcomed children into his kitchen can be callous. No man who held a complete stranger as he fell apart in his arms is heartless.” Joe makes each statement with a conviction that is humbling as he continues to rub a pattern along Nicky’s cheek.

“You’re too good for me Joe,” he protests, shaking his head frantically. “I don’t deserve-“ 

“What is it you said all those months ago?” Joe cuts in, pausing for a weighted moment, eyes piercing before he nods without waiting for an answer. “That’s right. It’s not about deserving. It’s about two souls seeing each other and saying _yes. You.”_ Joe releases a shaky breath as his voice surges with emotion, as his eyes grow bright. “If you say your soul is too blackened to be loved then you claim mine is the same Nicolò di Genova.”

Nicky stares at Joe helplessly, lost in the earnest fervor of his expression, in his words. And he finds himself speechless, unable to protest despite his clawing need to declare his unworth. Softening, Joe strokes a hand through Nicky’s hair. “I will remind you every day until you believe me,” he whispers. “You are loved. You deserve love. You are good.” 

When Nicky eventually falls asleep, face tucked into Joe’s neck and gripping him like he fears he’ll be gone in the morning, Joe continues to remain awake for a long time. He knew that Nicky had a painful past. Since Joe met him Nicky has been oddly tight-lipped about his childhood and adolescence, and the silence itself was telling. 

But Joe didn’t quite realise how painful his past actually was. 

It took all of Joe’s willpower to remain calm as Nicky peeled back the armour around his heart to reveal it bruised and beaten. He was practically vibrating with fury, _helpless_ fury at what Nicky endured. And he was nearly frozen with horrified shock when Nicky revealed what he had done in secondary school. Joe never imagined that Nicky- sweet, kind, quiet, thoughtful Nicky- could ever have been so cruel. And he wasn’t expecting to uncover the roiling mass of self-hatred and shame from his actions, from his parents’ actions, that Nicky has kept so hidden. As his mind continues to race Joe tightens his hold on Nicky’s sleeping form in an irrational and belated attempt to shield him from his past, from his own mind. 

Joe meant what he said, of course he did, that he could never hate Nicky for his actions as a lost youth. But he can’t help but worry...worry at the weight of guilt that Nicky clearly still carries around. Nicky hasn’t seen Marco, the boy he was so cruel to, ever since that fateful night because Nicky’s parents sent him straight to seminary afterwards. And Joe doubts Marco would have gone anywhere near Nicky if he had returned to school anyway. 

But that’s the problem. Nicky hasn’t had any closure, hasn’t actually been able to apologise, to ask for forgiveness (and accept if forgiveness may never be granted). But even that worst case scenario must be better than Nicky carrying every day the fear of what might have happened to Marco after that night. 

Joe sighs. Perhaps at a later date, when reliving the memories isn’t so raw, Joe will bring it up.

But for now Joe imagines he may hold Nicky a tiny bit closer, say how much he loves him a little bit more frequently than before. Nicky has done so much to hold Joe through his pain. The least he can do is the same. 

Joe blinks when Nicky stiffens with a whimper. “Shhh ya amar, I’m here,” Joe soothes, brushing a hand through his hair. He finds himself humming again, quietly in an effort to chase away the demons haunting Nicky in his sleep. 

Nicky shifts. “Yusuf?” He croaks. 

Joe’s heart breaks at how small and fearful Nicky’s voice is. “Sono qui hayati, I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, kissing both of Nicky’s eyelids and drawing back when they flutter open. Even in the dark Joe can see Nicky’s eyes, luminescent and depthless. 

“Promise?”

Joe cups Nicky’s cheek and presses a lingering kiss to his forehead. “Promise.” 

Nicky wiggles impossibly closer, tucking his head back beneath Joe’s chin. “Talk to me?” He requests tentatively. 

“Hm. What would you like me to talk to you about?” Joe asks as he strokes soothing patterns along Nicky’s back.

“Anything,” Nicky sighs, eyes drifting back closed.

Joe ponders what to say for a moment before grinning. “Did I ever tell you about the time when Amani and Basim went through their pink phase?” 

Nicky huffs out a laugh, nuzzling Joe’s throat. “I don’t think so. Tell me?” 

*******

Nicky wakes the next morning to Joe’s alarm, a daily occurrence on the days his alarm doesn't take the form of two far too awake children. He watches with amusement as, like every day, Joe releases a disgruntled sound and snuggles closer to Nicky with a contented sigh. Nicky’s heart warms and aches at the same time as memories of last night come flooding back. He tightens his arms around Joe. To think he could have lost this. (And still might in the light of day.)

When Joe’s alarm continues to blare Joe blindly fumbles for it before finding the snooze button with a grunt of victory. 

“Time to get up amore mio,” Nicky whispers regretfully. This is one of his favourite moments: the early rays of sun streaming through the curtains and Joe sleepy warm and cuddly in his arms. Though he encountered Joe’s endearing drowsiness before he moved in, witnessing it before Joe gets out of bed is an entirely different experience. Joe is softer here, something Nicky thought was impossible. And having this exuberant man quiet and sleepy in his arms is like holding a precious jewel, one that could never dull. 

Joe makes a displeased sound adorably close to a whine when the alarm goes off again. “You know what’s coming if you don’t get up amore mio,” Nicky warns.

“Hrrmph,” is Joe’s petulant response as he stubbornly nuzzles Nicky’s throat. Nicky’s soft laughter is interrupted by his warning coming to fruition as two tiny balls of light and giggles clamber onto the bed and begin gently patting Joe’s cheeks. “Wake up wake up Baba!” Amani exclaims. 

“Sleepy head!” Basim teases with a giggle. 

“Nico where is the snooze button on these alarms?” Joe mumbles, eyes still closed as he begins to tickle his children, grinning sleepily at their delighted shrieks. Eventually, as the alarm goes off for the third time, Joe rises with a groan, blinking lazily as he looks around.

Nicky’s chest constricts at the soft smile that spreads across Joe’s face. _”Good morning my loves,”_ he murmurs, kissing Amani and Basim’s cheeks. Turning to Nicky he whispers, _“Good morning my love,”_ before reaching over Basim’s head to draw Nicky into a soft kiss.

Once Joe lets himself be dragged out of bed, Nicky remains there for a tense moment. Anxiety coils in his stomach like a snake about to strike at the prospect of facing a morning on his own. And Nile is knee deep in a commission and Booker teaches of course and Andy and Quynh are going out of town to visit their friend Lykon which leaves him by himself with his thoughts. Nicky’s used to being alone but he’s still brittle and raw from the previous night and pathetically dreads the empty apartment.

Releasing a shuddering sigh, Nicky forces himself out of bed. By the time he trudges into the kitchen Amani and Basim are munching on some toast and Joe is already pouring two mugs of coffee, adding a splash of milk to the mug that says “Romaine Calm Lettuce Carrot On.” Joe gave it to Nicky with a shit-eating grin a few weeks ago and it never failed to make Nicky smile. Guess there are exceptions to everything. 

Pecking Joe’s cheek as he accepts the mug with a murmured “Grazie,” Nicky moves to start his and Joe’s breakfast when Joe cuts in front of him. “Let me treat you,” Joe insists, eyes wide and pleading. 

Nicky furrows his brow. “You have to get ready for work.” 

Joe turns his back to Nicky as he begins rifling through the fridge. “Called out last night,” he says gruffly. 

Nicky freezes, heart stuttering and breath picking up. _”What?”_ he rasps as panic twists through his chest like a vine of thorns. 

Setting aside some eggs and veggies, Joe draws Nicky into a firm hug. “I wasn’t going to leave you alone Nico. If you need your space take it but…” Nicky numbly registers the brush of curls as Joe shakes his head. “Couldn’t leave you alone,” he finishes with a mumble and an awkward shrug. 

As Amani and Basim join the hug, excited at the prospect of their baba walking them to school, Nicky grasps desperately for his grounding techniques. Joe’s a workaholic. Nicky practically had to sit on him last April to get Joe to call out sick. And yet he’s treating this like it was the obvious choice, like this is _logical._

“Your students…” Nicky says weakly-

“Will enjoy the sub plans I already had prepared,” Joe finishes, drawing away to fix Nicky when a piercing stare. “There’s someone who needs me more today and it was the simplest decision I’ve made in quite some time.” Pressing their foreheads together Joe pleads softly, “Please don’t overthink this Nico. I _wanted_ to.” 

Nicky can only step back, shaking his head rapidly before taking a shaky breath and carefully setting this matter aside. They’ll be able to continue this conversation later apparently. 

*******

“You really didn’t have to call out,” Nicky mutters once the kids are dropped off. He’s seated at the kitchen table and staring at the cup of tea Joe just poured, once again finding himself transported to the early days of their relationship as their roles continue to be reversed. 

Joe reaches across the table and clasps Nicky’s hand. “I love you Nico. Yes I love my students but _you’re_ my first priority,” he says firmly. “You and Basim and Amani.” 

Emotions clashing through his chest in a maelstrom at Joe’s pronouncement, Nicky can only change the topic. “So you don’t regret the promises you made last night in the light of day?” he asks, fidgeting uncomfortably and making to draw his hand out of Joe’s before Joe tightens his grip.

Joe studies their linked hands and instead of responding asks, “Do you remember when we watched The Good Place a few months ago?” 

Nicky blinks at the non-sequitur. “Yes…?” 

Joe’s eyes flick up, gentle and open. “Remember the thesis of the show? The one we discussed for over a week?” 

Understanding dawns on Nicky and he forces himself to meet Joe’s eyes. Swallowing, he nods. “People improve with love and support,” he recites before going on, memories of late nights spent laughing and discussing the show like a warm caress upon his cheek. “Each character was forced into bad habits by circumstances and forces outside of their control. When their circumstances changed to give them an opportunity to do better, when they were surrounded by love and support, they were able to become better people. In short, when their environment improved, their ability to function as moral agents improved.” 

Joe smiles softly, reaching over so he can clasp both of Nicky’s hands in his own. “When Andy and Quỳnh found you in that bar and whisked you away, they changed your circumstance. They gave you an opening to become better. And you have. Fuck Nico you’re so _good.”_ In the fluorescent lights of the kitchen Joe’s eyes are wide and bright with emotion as he wordlessly begs Nicky to believe him. 

Nicky lowers his gaze, unable to stare straight into his sun, unable to let Joe see his doubt. “I didn’t deserve a second chance,” he says darkly. 

“What have we-” 

“This is different Joe!” Nicky barks, immediately regretting the harshness of his tone as Joe draws away. Raking fingers through his hair Nicky presses the heels of his hands harshly against his eyes. “Sì, my circumstance changed but did Marco’s? Or has he continued to suffer for over a decade while I’ve been surrounded by two women who gave a blubbering asshole a second chance he doesn’t deserve and who now finds himself foolishly adored by a man and two children!” Ripping his hands away, Nicky feels that familiar fire he’s tried so hard these past years to control rise once more and greedily lick up and through his throat until the words spill out like toxic gas. “You really want your children around someone like me? Is that you being a good role model? A good _father?”_ Nicky sneers, lashing out with barbed words in a desperate act to save Joe, save Basim and Amani before it’s too late. 

He regrets it immediately, the fire extinguished under his other two constants: guilt and self-loathing as a flicker of hurt crosses Joe’s face. Joe draws fully away now, arms crossed as he hunches into himself. Nicky reaches out a hand hesitantly before pulling back. “I-”

“What if you could find out?” Joe asks quietly, studying the streaks of paint lovingly covering every inch of the kitchen table. 

“What?” Nicky asks, unbalanced. 

Joe’s eyes rise, guarded in a way they’ve never been with Nicky before. He hates it. “Social media is a thing Nico. We could try to search him up. I’m not promising anything but you clearly need this closure,” Joe says calmly. Too calmly given Nicky’s recent words. 

Nicky feels the world tip at the idea, at even the _potential_ of knowing what happened to Marco. Will he be able to handle it? Finding out how much more he has made that innocent man suffer? But not knowing is far worse, isn’t it? At least if he finds out what happened, he can face it head on and hopefully find a way to repent. If that is even possible. “Can we?” he whispers. 

A few minutes later Nicky sits stiffly on the couch as Joe boots up his computer, a fresh mug of tea brewed and equally forgotten. The cushion between them glares at Nicky like an accusation. From nearly the beginning of their acquaintance there was no gap between Nicky and Joe and now there’s a wedge of Nicky’s own making. He’s desperate to reach out, desperate to curl up beside Joe, but knows he lost that privilege after the way he acted in the kitchen. 

As Joe pulls up his Facebook, the wallpaper depicting a scene from Pride and the profile of Joe grinning with his kids, he turns to Nicky with an unreadable expression. “Come here Nico,” he murmurs after a beat, lifting his arm to invite Nicky to duck under it like he’s done countless times. 

Nicky eyes it longingly before shaking his head. “But I-”

“Can make it up to me when you’re less emotionally vulnerable and raw,” Joe cuts in firmly before hesitating and looking away. “It’s easier, isn’t it?” he comments, voice soft. “Getting angry rather than letting yourself hurt.” A lump forms in his throat at those gentle words that burn like a brand, unavoidable and brutal. 

“Sì,” he whispers. 

Looking back up at Nicky, Joe’s eyes lose their guardedness and instead soften. “Come here ya amar. Let me hold you.” Acquiescing like his heart has been screaming for him to do, Nicky curls into Joe’s side, some brittleness falling away as he soaks up Joe’s warmth and proximity. 

Nicky never joined facebook or any kind of social media, paranoid that his old life would find a way of tracking him down. There’s a reason he has no plans of ever returning to Italy. Besides, attempting to reach out to Marco with his own profile would be laughable. The message would be deleted before it could be read. Though he’s not planning on deceiving him regarding who exactly is writing from Joe’s page either. 

It’s with nauseous relief when Nicky spells out Marco’s full name and Joe finds him relatively easily. The profile picture is of Marco in a sleek black tux, laughing as a man with olive skin, dancing eyes, and a matching white suit kisses his cheek. Nicky’s breath catches at the evidence that he hasn’t ruined this for him at least. Then he studies Marco’s thrown back head for a long moment. Did he ever witness Marco laugh? 

Shaking himself out of his daze, Nicky takes the computer and opens a document, unwilling to risk accidentally sending anything until he drafts what he wants to say fully. Nicky stares at the cursor blinking at him for far too long until he begins typing. He gets five sentences out before immediately deleting everything he wrote. He starts again. 

Thirty minutes pass before Nicky has anything remotely satisfying, and all the while Joe remains contently at his side, arm pressed tightly around Nicky’s shoulders. Finally he pauses to read over what he has. 

_Hi Marco. It’s Nicolò. I’m using a friend’s account to write this because I don’t have any social media, not because I’m trying to trick you. I’ve been living with the guilt of what I did to you- every single action but especially my words that final night- every day. I want to make amends. To apologise, fully, the way you deserve. I don’t expect you to forgive me. Honestly I don’t expect you to respond once you spot my name in this message. But I needed to try. If you are interested, I would like to meet you. I am currently living in the US but am ready and willing to fly to wherever you are to make this right. Please consider it but I understand if you won’t. I hope you are well and happy.  
Sincerely,  
Nicolò_

He reads and rereads and re-re-re-re-rereads it before finally copying and pasting the message and sending it, stomach sinking like a stone in the sea as he does. “At least I know he looks happy even if I’ll never know if he truly is,” Nicky says numbly as he shuts the computer. Sighing, he hangs his head and digs his fingers into his hair, grateful for the grounding sting as Nicky processes the fact that he’s bared all of his skeletons to Joe at this point and the man has yet to turn away. But maybe there's an unfortunate and more realistic reason for that. “I deserved to be upfront with you about my past before I let myself be so tangled up into your lives. If you’re letting me stay for Basim and Amani’s sake-” Nicky’s voice breaks and he trails off, unsure or unwilling to finish the sentence. 

“Come.” Joe rises and reaches a hand out that Nicky is too weak not to take. “We never had our dance,” he murmurs as he leads Nicky into the kitchen. “And I think I know what song I want to dance to.” 

Nicky swallows, mind flashing back to the innocuous moment the previous night that has somehow led them here. For better or worse. Thumbing through his phone and booting up his speaker, Joe releases a satisfied grunt once he selects a song and sets it aside. As he laces their fingers together, Joe wraps an arm around Nicky and guides his head onto Joe’s shoulder. “Listen to the words Nico.” Joe hums softly as he gently sways them and Nicky sags into his hold, the hand not in Joe’s grip wrapping around the other man’s waist. The song starts slowly with only a piano before the singer begins. Nicky immediately stiffens at the mention of a school in the first stanza but Joe shushes him gently and strokes a hand through his hand. “Keep listening.” 

His breath catches as the song continues, as Joe mouths the words against Nicky’s neck and they sway, turning in slow circles while the song continues to spiral outwards. Nicky blinks after a minute when Joe draws away and starts singing out loud, expression focused and intent as he grips Nicky’s dropped hands in his own. 

“ _You say it's safer on your own  
You’d rather sleep alone  
Then grow to need me there  
But I hope now you can see  
What my mom and dad showed me  
I’m not going anywhere”_

Joe smiles as his eyes grow overbright and he cradles Nicky’s cheeks. 

_”I love you more and more each day  
To love is not to leave  
So hear me when I say”_

Taking a shaky breath, Joe continues singing, voice cracked and imperfect and beautiful.

_”I may not be wise  
And I won’t save the day  
But look in my eyes  
And know I’ll always stay  
And I won’t run away_

Bridging the gap once more, Joe presses their foreheads together. 

_”I won’t run away”_

Tears stream down Nicky’s cheeks as the final notes of the song fades. He can see some of Joe’s own tears drip into his beard as they remain connected and still in the center of the kitchen while Nicky plays the lyrics back in his head, lets himself finally listen to what Joe has been trying to say. Gripping Joe’s wrists from where he’s still cradling Nicky’s face, Nicky releases a a shaky breath. “Okay,” he whispers, closing his eyes. “Okay. I believe you.” He feels Joe sag in his arms and now it’s him holding Joe up as they renew their swaying, now to the sound of their own heartbeats, holding each other close and heads pressed together. “I won’t run away either,” he breathes, sinking into the pressure as Joe tightens his arms around Nicky. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to feature children’s birthday parties and pet adoption and instead Nicky had an existential crisis that’s been a long time coming. As much as I want to go down the Dan Levy Schitts Creek route of not making room for homophobia at all, I wanted Nicky to have a dark past that he’s since worked to better himself from like he does in canon as well. I promise the only other time (and it will only ever be internalized) homophobia will be brought up is when Nicky (spoilers?) meets up with Marco to have some proper closure and apologise. That won’t be for a few chapters and I’ll provide appropriate chapter warnings when it does occur. Anyway sorry for the angst-fest but I hope you still enjoyed this chapter? And I promise we’re back to full on fluff next chapter! 
> 
> [Nicky’s mug](https://www.aliexpress.com/i/32969436131.html)
> 
> The Good Place thesis is pulled from [this ](https://thedreadvampy.tumblr.com/post/178901886412/exigencelost-closet-keys-why-none-of-them-got)awesome post 
> 
> The song Joe sings is Run Away by Ben Platt who’s gay and makes explicit references to loving a man so I thought Nicky would appreciate him. Plus the lyrics were kinda perfect.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for pet adoption and Halloween!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter will officially make this fic the longest work I've written. And considering this was initially gonna be three chapters, I'm...shocked. I'm not quite sure how this fic that is 99% fluff has managed to be so long but I know a big driving force is all of your kudos, comments, and enthusiasm. Thank you for your continued support, it means the world to me. <3 <3 <3

Okay. Yeah. This was officially one of Joe’s better decisions. His heart melts into a pile of lovesick goo as Basim and Amani gently pet the dog under the watchful eyes of one of the shelter volunteers. She’s a timid thing, clearly unused to affection. He glances over to where Nicky is beside him and visibly fighting how dearly he wants to go to the sweet thing. Yeah. She’s not the only one who could use some extra love. 

The night of Basim and Amani’s party hangs over Nicky’s head like a heavy cloud, even a week later. And though he tries to be discreet, Joe keeps catching Nicky watching him like a skittish animal, like a doomed man waiting for his judgement. Joe has done his best to temper Nicky’s fears with whispered words of love, with embraces that linger a little too long and squeeze a little too tight. But it’s like exposing these memories to Joe has crippled Nicky’s self-esteem. Joe can only hope that with some time and care he will be able to move past this. With or without the proper closure. 

Nicky hasn’t asked Joe about the message he sent to Marco, and Joe is grateful for it. The little “read'' icon appeared two days after sending it and there hasn’t been a response since. Joe doesn’t know if that’s the better or worse of the options but he’s not quite sure what he’ll say when Nicky inevitably asks. 

Pulling himself out of his brooding thoughts, Joe smiles when the dog sits up and licks Basim while his son giggles in response. This is the most relaxed he’s seen Basim in such a short period of time upon entering an unfamiliar space. Usually it takes him far longer to be comfortable releasing Joe or Nicky’s hands but the moment Basim spotted the dog it’s like his shyness and nerves dissipated. 

“What do we think, my little monsters?” Joe asks, coming up beside them but leaving the dog some space before crouching down. 

“I want her!” Amani announces, her usual enthusiasm as she pets the dog softened to something more tamed after the volunteer warned them to be gentle. 

“Me too,” Basim grins, scratching behind the dog’s ears as her tail tentatively thumps. 

Joe watches his children for a suspended moment, relishing the simple joy on their faces, before he nods. “We’ll take her,” Joe says softly, finding it impossible to tear his gaze from the tableau before him.

Eventually he does, if only to help Amani and Basim clip on the collar and leash they brought in the hope they could bring someone home after their visit. Even better that it’s the grey pitbull mix they had their hearts set on. As Amani and Basim hold on to part of the leash, Joe walks (more like shuffles given the children in his way) the dog to the desk. As he does Joe can’t help but grin at the collar and leash combination. Nicky sent Joe a look of despair when he announced they were going to the pet store a few days ago to pick a collar and leash. Not that Joe could blame him; they were in there for at least an hour before the kids settled on a collar with multi-coloured stars and a leash featuring rainbows and unicorns. (“Like the GSA Baba!” Basim had grinned.)

“Have we settled on a name?” the volunteer asks as she looks over the paperwork Joe had filled out. 

The children exchange glances before grinning. “Topolina!” Amani announces. Joe furrows his brow at the unfamiliar name while Nicky chokes behind him. When he turns, Joe finds Nicky staring at the kids with his mouth gaping open. He hasn’t looked so shocked since Basim and Amani managed to bake cookies that were actually edible. 

“What?” Joe asks, looking between Nicky and the children. 

“You sure you want to go with that name cuccioli?” Nicky asks faintly. 

“Uh huh!” Amani chirps while Basim nods happily. 

“Will someone please catch me up?” Joe asks with amused exasperation. 

Nicky licks his lips, glancing down at the dog. “Topolina…” he says slowly. “It means little mouse.” Joe looks at the dog’s grey fur and snorts. Of course. He should have expected this given what they named poor Cow. 

Nicky lifts his gaze and he opens his mouth as though to speak further, but Basim cuts in shyly. “It’s also what Mickey Mouse is called in Italy, right Nicky Mouse?” he prompts, patting the dog’s head with a grin. 

Joe barks out a laugh, his heart warming at his clever little monsters. “Are we saying that Nicky looks like a dog now?” Joe asks, placing his chin in his hand with a contemplative hum as he studies Nicky’s ever-reddening face. 

“Noooo” the kids giggle. 

“But we love Nicky and we love Topo and Topo is grey and it just makes sense,” Amani states matter-of-factly, wrapping her arms around Topolina for emphasis. 

Containing his laughter at his disarming and precious children and the mortified Italian, Joe winks at Nicky. “Can’t argue with that logic.”

*******

“I still can’t believe it,” Nicky moans from where his face is buried in Joe’s shaking chest. “I can’t believe those ridiculous cuccioli named the dog _Topolina.”_

Giving up on his futile attempts to stifle his laughter, Joe leans forward and cackles quietly into Nicky’s hair. “Looks like we have two mice in the house now,” he snorts. 

“Not a mouse,” Nicky mumbles petulantly, fighting to keep his lips from twitching in response to Joe’s contagious joy. “Is a cute name,” he adds in a begrudging grumble a moment later. 

Finally getting his laughter somewhat under control, Joe straightens and grins as Nicky shoots him a weak glare. Ducking his head Joe strokes his fingers through Nicky’s hair. “Says a lot, no?” he says quietly. “That the kids chose an Italian name?” (Fortunately said kids were finally convinced to go to bed after being promised that Topolina can sleep in their room once she’s housetrained.) 

Now Nicky draws away so they’re seated side by side again, picking up and tracing Joe’s palm contemplatively and feeling his shoulders rise up to his ears. “I guess,” he sighs. He’s still reeling from his breakdown a week before, still feeling fragile, unsteady in the renewed promises Joe has made him. And Nicky’s guilt has remained a steady throb in his heart, guilt at his greatest shames revealed in the daylight, and shame in how he treated Joe. How easily his resharpened claws dug into vulnerable flesh once more. 

He’s apologised, profusely, repeatedly, and Joe has soothed him each time. “It’s easier to hurt than let yourself hurt,” Joe reiterated the next day when Nicky came to him wringing his hands. 

“That doesn’t excuse what I said,” Nicky gritted out.

It was only then that Joe looked up from his sketch and opened his arms for Nicky to fall into. They sat there silently for a long moment, Joe stroking Nicky’s back until he responded. “It hurt. But I knew you were hurting too.” 

“You don’t deserve to be in the crossfire of my pain,” Nicky said darkly. 

“And yet I’m still here,” replied Joe simply. 

But despite all of Joe’s reassurances, Nicky’s self-hatred has been hammering against his chest all week. That he could be so casually cruel to the kindest man Nicky has the privilege to know. That it was so mindlessly easy to sink back into old habits. That a man with his simmering fury would be allowed within 10 feet of Basim and Amani. But even when Nicky brought that fear up in a kinder and more vulnerable way than that night, Joe brushed away his concerns. “You would never willingly hurt them,” he insisted. Nicky just hopes Joe’s right.

The one and only time Joe tried to be more intimate than kissing since though Nicky had shrunk away, even as his stomach curdled when a flash of hurt skittered across Joe’s face. He just...doesn’t think he’s earned that again. Not yet. 

Eventually Nicky’s pulled gently from his tumultuous thoughts by an inquiring woof. He turns with a soft smile to see Topolina with a penguin squeaky toy in her mouth and her tail wagging hopefully. When they went to the pet store to get a leash and collar, they also walked out with far too many toys. He can tell this will be the most spoiled dog in the world.

“Do you want to play Topolina?” Joe croons before leaping off the couch and falling to his knees. Her tail picks up speed as Joe scratches behind her ears and pats her sides. Nicky watches fondly as Joe murmurs sweet nothings to her and Topolina’s whole behind starts wiggling with cautious excitement. She’s certainly shy and was overwhelmed when all four of them were in the room, cowering in her dog bed rather than joining where they were all sitting. But based on what the shelter reported, it’s not surprising. That familiar fire surges through his chest once more, this time with righteous anger rather than panic and hurt. 

Seized by the need to shower their poor girl with love, Nicky joins Joe on the floor and gently wrests the toy from Topolina before tossing it towards the kitchen. He and Joe laugh as Topolina scrambles to retrieve the toy before beelining back to them, bowing with an excited wag. 

For the next 10 minutes Joe and Nicky take turns throwing the various toys Topolina brings to them: the squeaky penguin, a rope, a ball, and a stuffed hippo. Once she’s suitably tired and they walk her around the block to do her business, they settle her down in the kitchen with some makeshift barriers to keep her locked in. (Joe was adamant against getting her a cage and even though it helps with housetraining, Nicky caved pretty quickly. Joe’s doe eyes are as lethal as his children’s. Must be genetic.)

“Oh I know habibti, you’re not too happy huh?” Joe croons, picking up Cow as he and Nicky slip into their room. Joe has done an absurd amount of research regarding bringing a dog into a home that already has a cat. (Not that Nicky is any better; he may have an entire bookmark folder secretly dedicated to training dogs.) One of the main tips is to keep each pet in a separate territory before slowly introducing them, so Cow’s official home is their room. Unfortunately, that means that the litter for Cow is also in their room. 

As they climb into bed, Cow releases a grumpy meow before claiming Joe’s pillow as her own. “Hm. Should’ve expected that,” he says contemplatively before turning to Nicky with a grin. “Guess you’ll be my pillow, right Nico?” 

“Lucky me,” Nicky says dryly, unable to hide his fond smile. 

His heart flips as Joe snuggles up right to him and places his head on Nicky’s chest with a sigh. “We have a dog,” he whispers, the curve of a smile pressing into Nicky’s neck. 

Nicky tangles his fingers through Joe’s hair, knowing now more than ever that he’ll never take this for granted. “Mhm. And I think it’s safe to say she’s in the most loving home possible and will grow to be remarkably spoiled.” 

“As she should be,” Joe declares before yawning. After lifting his head just enough to press a light kiss to Nicky’s lips, Joe immediately plops back down. “Love you ya amar,” he mumbles, eyes already closing. 

“Love you tesoro,” Nicky whispers, wrapping his arms to hold Joe tight. “With all my heart.”

*******

“PUMPKIN CARVING TIME!” Amani squeals as Joe sets the pumpkins the kids had picked a few weeks ago down on the table. 

“Have you decided on your designs, my little monsters?” Joe asks, finding himself distracted by Nicky practicing some commands with Topolina. They’ve had her for four days and in that time Cow has begrudgingly claimed the dog as her own, Topolina has claimed the living room blanket as _her_ own, and they’ve already had to say farewell to two squeaky toys. All this is to say, the Al-Kaysani household is having the time of their lives. They attempted to explain to Topolina that the blanket hanging over the couch wasn’t actually for dogs but when a dog wraps herself in a blanket and then peers up at you with puppy eyes only the most hardened of people would be able to take it back. Joe has already informed his baba that the blanket he painstakingly crocheted last year has gone to the dogs (literally) and Mehdi’s been sending photos of potential colours for yarn ever since. 

“No Topolina _down,”_ Nicky says gently, pointing to the ground. In response, Topolina bows in a play position with her head cocked. Joe snorts at Nicky’s expression; he’s trying so hard to stay firm instead of melt like Joe currently is at that sight. 

“Why don’t you pause the boot camp for now Nico and help us carve these pumpkins,” Joe suggests. 

“You’re the artist Yusuf, not me. But I suppose we can pause for now,” Nicky muses with a scratch of her ears before joining their table. Meanwhile, Topolina trots over to where Cow is watching the proceedings from her cat perch. Though the dog sits in front of the tree hopefully, Cow only watches her with a lazy swish of the tail before returning to her study of the outside world. At least there’s _one_ creature in this household who can withstand the power of those puppy eyes. 

Joe grins when he sees what Amani and Basim’s designs are. With shaky sharpie, Basim has drawn a cat and dog face on his pumpkin while Amani has drawn a ghost on hers. He’s so glad he has enough experience to be able to interpret their less than pristine art. Shooing the kids further back as he takes out the knife, Joe sets to work sawing. 

Once the tops are off Amani and Basim have permission to come closer again so they can gleefully scrape out the guts and seeds. “Don’t throw out the seeds!” Nicky yelps as they move toward the trash. Grabbing a bowl Nicky gestures for the kids to put the seeds in there instead. “There are so many recipes I can use these in,” he mutters with that gleam in his eyes that only appears when Nicky is cooking or writing. 

“If you say so hayati,” Joe says with amusement, idly scratching Topolina from where she’s sidled up beside him. 

“What have I said about petting her when there’s food around?” Nicky frets, giving Joe whiplash. “She’ll be begging every dinner at this point.” 

Joe mentally rolls his eyes. Nicky has been a tad anxious when it comes to Topolina. (He thinks Joe hasn’t found his bookmark folder filled with at least 10 articles on owning a dog.) But it’s not surprising. This will be Nicky’s first time owning a dog and he’s always wanted to. Not to mention there seems to be something...permanent in a relationship when it comes to pet ownership. So Joe obligingly halts his petting of their girl and finds the way that Nicky’s shoulders slightly relax makes her forlorn whimper slightly bearable. But only slightly. 

Once the pumpkins have been emptied and Basim and Amani’s hands obediently washed, Joe starts the actual carving with close (but distant) observation by his employers. (If he was being paid in hugs.) To relieve the pressure that comes with having two incredibly intense pairs of eyes on him, Nicky starts up a conversation. “Are you excited to go trick-or-treating tomorrow cuccioli?” he asks as he scans through his recipe books. 

“Yeah Basim it’ll be fun! _Everyone_ will be jealous of our Marshall costumes and we can get lots of candy and if we get tired we can ride on Baba and Nicky Mouse’s backs!” Amani chatters, tugging at her brother’s arm repeatedly to emphasise her points. 

“Oh, I just assumed we were already going since we have your costumes,” Nicky remarks with an inquiring glance at where Joe is finishing the ears of Basim’s cat. Joe winces. Fuck, did he never explain that to Nicky? 

“Basi gets scared ‘cause of all the costumes and decorations,” Amani says in an attempted whisper. 

Feeling a tug on his pants Joe pauses his carving and looks down at Basim’s uncertain expression. “Would Topolina come with us?” he asks quietly. 

Joe studies Basim for a long moment. They’ve been leash training her and though Topolina is interested in literally every smell imaginable and insists on stopping every foot to sniff something, she’s not aggressive and she doesn’t strain too hard so he supposes that they could bring her. And if it will finally help Basim feel comfortable enough to trick or treat and not just wear the costume then the anxiety over keeping track of two kids and a dog during Halloween might be worth it.

“Would that help you habibi? If you got to help walk her while we trick or treat?” he asks with a tilt of the head. Basim nods silently as he hooks his arms (gently) around Topolina’s neck. Joe hums. This wasn’t even a perk of having a dog that he considered, despite the fact that the counseling department at his school has a therapy dog and it’s obvious how beneficial animals are to the emotional wellbeing of kids and adults both. Smiling softly at the pair, Joe nods. “Then we can certainly bring her.” At Basim’s giant grin and Amani’s cheer Joe’s smile widens. Yep. Getting a dog was definitely one of his better decisions. 

*******

**_Nile_ to shit lets start a band** _HAPPY HALLOWEEN MOTHERFUCKERS! Andy and Quỳnh did you get my delivery???_

 **Quỳnh** _I’m in the midst of bribing my lovely yet grouchy wife to try it on_

**Andy** _I’m not a child I don’t wear costumes_

**Joe** _I’m sure Basim and Amani would be thrilled to see a photo of you two in your wonderful costumes while you work the bar tonight_

 **Andy** _...send me a video of their reactions and I’ll consider it_

 **Joe** _Deal_

Nicky takes at least a dozen photos of Amani and Basim in their matching Marshall costumes before Joe finally cajoles him into putting on his own costume. This was another thing that Nicky hadn’t been permitted to ever take part in. Sure, once he hit secondary he snuck out of his house to go to parties but he has no illusions about what would have happened if he was ever caught. Besides, it was less a Halloween party and more a “see how drunk you can get without dying” party, costumes optional. And when he was younger Nicky only asked once if he could dress up and go trick-or-treating before he learned never to ask again. 

Shaking off the memories, Nicky wiggles into the costume Joe got him, smiling softly at Basim and Amani’s giggles. “SELFIE TIME!” Joe sings, toddling over to Nicky in his cookie costume. 

Nicky looks skeptically down at his milk carton costume. “I don’t think I have the maneuverability to take a photo,” he says dryly. Joe waves him off only to find that he has the same problem, arms not quite reaching far enough to get all four of them in the frame. 

He only has time to pout for a moment though before their doorbell rings. Basim and Amani scurry over, anticipating who it is. “HAKIM!” they shout once they open the door to two giant and one tiny minions. Despicable Me is Hakim’s favourite movie and Basim and Amani have been begging to have a sleepover at Hakim’s house so they can watch it together. Nicky knows that Joe is feeling conflicted about having them sleep over at anyone’s house other than his family’s yet though. 

Zahra comments in Arabic, voice tinged with laughter while Ahmed chuckles as they drift in. Joe scowls and retorts something back, gesturing with his phone emphatically. Nicky shakes his head with a smile. Even without knowing what they’re saying, Nicky is endlessly amused by Joe’s dramatics.

Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Ahmed accepts the phone and waves Joe, Nicky, Amani, and Basim together. “Puppy??” Hakim breathes, only noticing now the dog hiding behind a chair. Joe replies to him in rapid-fire Arabic before registering that Nicky is looking around rather helplessly. He’s making small gains with his Arabic lessons but he’s not advanced enough to follow _any_ of what they’re saying. “Sorry hayati,” Joe winces, switching back to English. “Got carried away.” 

“That’s okay caro mio, you’re not the only one who can speak another language,” Nicky smirks. Turning to Basim and Amani, Nicky waggles his brows. “ _Let us pretend we are saying something very funny,”_ he says seriously before laughing. 

Basim and Amani giggle too. “ _You are silly Nicky Mouse!”_ Amani exclaims. 

“Okay I think I caught some of those words,” Joe mutters with a furrowed brow. 

Chuckling, Nicky butts Joe’s head gently with his own. “I’m just teasing tesoro. I will teach you those words in a future lesson.” It’s been one of the highlights of his days, when Nicky and Joe trade words and sentences in their native languages to teach the other. Though to be honest all of his days are filled with highlights lately. He just never thought he would have someone to converse in Italian with again, let alone 2 ½ people. (Joe has forgotten a lot since secondary school.) 

“Alright, group photo and then it’s time to roll!” Ahmed announces, brandishing Joe’s phone. It takes some maneuvering but eventually Amani and Basim stand in the front with their hands on their hips while Joe and Nicky pose behind them, Joe giving both kids bunny ears while Nicky watches him with fond exasperation. When Ahmed shows the photo to them Joe barks out a laugh. “That’s gonna be framed for sure.” 

Nicky’s heartbeat stutters at the casual statement and he stares at Joe who is obliviously accepting Ahmed’s phone to take a photo of the Al-Fassis, acting like what he said isn’t monumental. Though there are countless photos of the four of them on both Joe and Nicky’s phones at this point, this is the first time Joe has made mention of having them displayed somewhere in the apartment.

He surveys the space, spotting the photos of Monique and Joe and their children peppering the walls and shelves. Nicky remembers when they first got together, Joe asking if it bothered Nicky seeing so many reminders of Joe’s past life. While his relationship with Monique is complex since Nicky is far too aware that he wouldn’t be in his current situation if she were still alive, he can never fault Joe for honouring her memory, for still loving her even in death. But hearing that a photo of _him_ may be joining the lovingly cluttered space...yeah Nicky doesn’t have the emotional capacity to process this right now. 

Once the three kids get a photo together and they’ve wrangled Topolina, the group heads out and Nicky firmly puts his latest existential crisis on the back-burner. It’s a good thing he does because once they reach outside Nicky watches worriedly as Basim clings onto Joe’s arm in what looks like a painful grip. Recalling Basim’s fear of the scarecrow from a few weeks ago, Nicky mentally winces. Even If they’ve passed some of these homes on their way to school or the park, it’s different at dusk and when everyone’s dressed up. 

When they reach their first home featuring some cobwebs and a blow up ghost, Nicky stops in front of Basim and crouches to his level while the poor boy shrinks away. “Basim I think Topolina might be scared of this house’s decorations. Want to stay back with her and give her some rubs? We can get you your candy while you hang back to help,” Nicky offers. 

After a moment Basim nods into Joe’s chest, who shoots Nicky a grateful look. “That’s very nice of you to help Topolina habibi,” Joe says quietly. While Basim’s face stays buried in the fabric of the giant cookie Joe is wearing, Joe gently guides his hand to where Topolina is sitting obediently. Though “down” has been a struggle, Topolina grasped “sit” fairly quickly. “There, look at her tail wag,” Joe gasps. 

Smiling as Basim peers down at Topolina with one eye, Nicky holds Amani’s hand and walks her to the door while Ahmed and Zahra do the same for Hakim. When they ring the doorbell a woman wearing butterfly wings opens the door. “Trick or treat!” they shout. 

“What lovely costumes,” she grins, brandishing her bowl of candy for the kids to choose. 

Once Amani selects a kit kat and Hakim some whoppers Amani hesitates. “Can I have another candy for my brother? He’s taking care of our dog because she’s scared,” Amani nods seriously. 

Shooting Nicky a knowing look, the woman nods. “Of course sweetheart,” she says with a soft smile. Tilting her bowl back towards Amani she whispers, “What candy do you think he’d like?” 

Amani studies the selection for a long time before turning and shouting, “Basi! Do you want three musketeers or snickers?” 

At this point half of Basim’s face is pulled away from Joe so he can better pet Topolina. Joe leans down before nodding. “Three musketeers please habibti!” 

Amani snatches a candy bar with a hurried thanks before she trots back to her brother to hand it to him. “They yours?” the woman asks. 

Nicky’s heart thrums as he watches Amani hug her brother gently and hand him his candy. “Yeah,” he says faintly. “They are.”

With Basim’s new responsibility towards Topolina, the rest of trick-or-treating passes by pleasantly. Each time they reach a stop Basim hangs back while Hakim and Amani go to the doors with an adult. He takes his responsibility seriously, whispering assurances in Topolina’s ear as he pets her. Fortunately Topolina is timid enough that Nicky isn’t convinced that she _doesn’t_ need some extra reassurance. 

When he checks his phone after their 10th house Nicky swears quietly to himself in Italian. “Need to go to your shift?” Joe asks, coming up beside him. 

“Yeah,” Nicky sighs with a slump. “Halloween is always all hands on deck.” 

Joe pecks his cheek. “Thanks for coming hayati.” Once he pulls back Joe’s expression turns mischievous as he winks. “Earn lots of tips!” 

Chuckling at Joe’s usual goodbye for when Nicky goes to work ever since that first time, Nicky kisses him. “I always do.” 

*******

**Marco D’Angelo** _You know I’ve been looking at this message for the past two weeks and have been trying to figure out what the fuck you’re trying now. Using someone else’s facebook profile who is CLEARLY queer based off of his pic to try to get me to talk? You really thought that would work on me? That’s a whole new level for you. And here I thought you couldn’t stoop lower. Fuck you Nicolò di Genova._

Joe takes a shaky breath as he rereads the message. Fuck. He’s about to type out a response when he draws away. He shouldn’t have even opened it without Nicky here but when the notification popped up he couldn’t help himself. Tomorrow he’ll show it to Nicky and apologize for overstepping. If Marco just needs to be convinced that Nicky is sincere about wanting to apologise...well, hopefully he’ll believe Nicky eventually.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Joe smiles softly as Hakim, Amani, and Basim play with Topolina on the living room floor, candy forgotten. They’re already knee deep in a sugar high and should be crashing in T-minus 30 minutes. The adults watch the shenanigans while chatting and munching on some pumpkin seed brittle, just one of the many pumpkin seed recipes Nicky has made in the past week. _”How’s Cow handling the newest member of the Al-Kaysani household?”_ Ahmed asks as he sips some ginger tea. 

Joe eyes where Cow has stalked over to Amani and started headbutting her. _“Fairly well considering she’s been a lone wolf for four years.”_

He can feel the inquiring glances shot towards him while Joe keeps his eyes fixed on Cow. _“Yeah,”_ he says after a moment, clearing his throat and retrying when his voice comes out hoarse. _“After Monique she helped. I’ve cried into her fur...far too many times for her to tolerate,”_ he adds with a rueful laugh. 

Though Amani has pulled Cow into her lap to pet her, Joe is suddenly seized with the desperate urge to remind Cow that he’s not replacing her. Not this cat, who Booker dragged Joe to the shelter to adopt after far too many nights spent sobbing into a pillow. Like many actions his friend who pretends to be an asshole makes, it was absolutely the right one. Cow has helped him through countless nights when the empty spot beside him was far too much to bear. 

Moving so he’s seated beside Amani, Joe pets the black and white fur. _“You’re my little queen, aren’t you?”_ he croons. With a purr Cow presses her head against Joe’s hand before climbing into his lap. At least she’s not too mad at him about daring to bring a dog into her household. Though there have been slightly more frequent early wake up calls in the form of toys dropped on his face to be entirely coincidental. Not that Joe doesn’t humour her each time. (It helps to have a partner who shoves coffee in Joe’s hand when he falls back to sleep mid-play.)

Joe looks up when a quiet woof sounds in his ear. Turning to look, Joe smiles at where Topolina is wagging her tail with her favourite penguin squeaky in her mouth. _“You’re my little queen too,”_ Joe laughs, scratching behind her ears. When Topolina places the toy in Joe’s lap and consequently _on_ Cow, the disgruntled cat lazily swipes at her. Topolina lets out a whimper and retreats behind Basim in response. Lifting Cow so they’re face to face Joe frowns. _“Now that wasn’t a nice way to treat your little sister.”_ Cow simply blinks. With a sigh, Joe returns to stroking her. _“I know you’re still getting used to our Topo but you’ll get there, I know you will.”_ It’s already clear that Cow likes Topolina considering how many times Joe has caught the cat aggressively cuddling her. But like many cats, Cow runs hot and cold so Joe isn’t expecting them to become best friends overnight. 

_”Okay habibi, it looks like it’s bedtime,”_ Zahra laughs as Hakim sways from where he’s sitting, dog toy drooping in his hand. 

_”Wanna play,”_ Hakim mumbles with a yawn. 

“ _We can play another time Hakim, promise,”_ Joe soothes. 

“ _To watch ‘spicable Me?”_ Amani asks hopefully.

Joe balks and winces when Zahra and Ahmed turn to Joe silently. Scrubbing his face, Joe sighs. _”We’ll talk about it habibti,”_ he replies, heart pounding even at the prospect. 

As he stands while the children exchange their sleepy goodbyes, Zahra comes up beside Joe. _“You know we would take care of them, right Joe?”_ Zahra whispers. 

Joe nods his head before shaking it and shrugging. _”It’s not you,”_ he mutters. _“It’s…”_

Ahmed claps Joe on the shoulder. _”No pressure brother. Take the time you need.”_ Joe shoots them both a grateful glance as Zahra nods in agreement. It’s not that he doesn’t trust them, but it’s one thing having Booker take Amani and Basim when Joe is too sick to care for them and a whole other scenario when he’s _willingly_ letting them out of his sight overnight. 

_”Maybe Hakim can stay here first?”_ he asks meekly.

Zahra and Ahmed both smile. _“Sounds like a deal.”_

*******

Nicky releases a forlorn sigh as he pours some drinks from the Halloween specials. While Andy and Quỳnh let Nicky off for Pride despite that being a crazy day and night, they still are his bosses and really needed him this Halloween. And though he does enjoy his job Nicky can’t help but long to be curled up beside his family as Amani and Basim crash from their inevitable sugar high. Dropping off the drinks with a flash of a smile while he idly wonders if Joe has already read them to sleep, Nicky freezes as two new customers slip into the bar stools. “Holy shit,” Nicky breathes, pulling out his phone without looking away from such a glorious sight. 

Booker’s eyes widen.“Don’t you-“

 ** _Nicky_ to shit lets start a band** _*image sent*_

 **Joe** _NILE_

 **Joe** _NILE_

 **Joe** _DID YOU SOMEHOW CONVINCE MR LE LIVRE_

 **Joe** _THE TEACHER WHO REFUSES TO DRESS UP EACH YEAR_

 **Joe** _TO WEAR A COUPLES COSTUME?!?!?_

 **Joe** _to dress as MARLIN from FINDING NEMO???_

 **Booker** _*middle finger*_

 **Joe** _IM FORWARDING THIS TO THE HISTORY DEPT  
_

**Booker** _You even THINK about it Al-Kaysani and you’re DEAD_

 **Joe** _AND ILL DIE A LAUGHING MAN_

Stifling his laughter as he thumbs through the texts now that he’s dropped off a bill, Nicky cuts in before this gets even more out of hand.

 **Nicky** _As much as this amuses me as well, I’d rather avoid explaining to your children that their father was killed by an irate Frenchman_

**Joe** _...fine_

 **Joe** _I’ll behave_

 **Joe** _For the children_

 **Joe** _But I’m making this my new wallpaper_

**Nicky** _acceptable *red heart emoji*_

 **Andy** _HEY KEEP IT PG. No one needs to see that here_

Nicky glares at Andy’s back as she chats with a regular and drops off their bill, returning her phone discreetly into her pocket. 

“Seriously Nicky, we don’t need to read something so graphic,” Booker snorts into his Halloween-themed mocktail. Nicky tilts his head before slowly pulling his phone out once more.

 ** _Nicky_ to shit lets start a band** _I’ve changed my mind Joe. Feel free to send it and I’ll protect you from any consequences_

 **Joe** _you’re the best babe! *red heart* *red heart*_

 **Quỳnh** _hey you’re on thin ice there mister! CHILDREN could be reading this chat!_

Nicky glowers at where Quỳnh and Andy are cackling to each other as he passes them to deliver some food. “Shouldn’t you be working?” he asks in a clipped tone. 

“We own the joint Nico! You know we could sit on our asses all day if we really wanted to,” Quỳnh smirks.

“Assholes,” Nicky mutters, placing the food down with his Customer Service smile before ever so gently knocking into both women as he returns to his station. 

“Arrr that be having you walk the plank it would,” Andy growls. 

Nicky snorts. When he saw what Andy and Quỳnh were dressed as, it reinforced the fact that Nile _really_ knows them. While Quỳnh wears a bodice with a ripped skirt, black boots, and a striped bandana, Andy has on a vest that matches Quỳnh’s sash, ripped shorts, and a black bandana with a skull. No other couple Nicky has met could better pull off matching pirate costumes. 

Surrounded by four assholes he’s lucky enough to call friends, Nicky works to set aside his lingering regret. Even if Joe, Basim, and Amani aren’t here and he’s working until they close at 1:30, he can still enjoy himself. The fact that at the end of his shift Nicky gets to return home to an incredibly cuddly man and will be woken up by two rambunctious children certainly eases the distance as well. 

*******

“ _Shit_ ” a voice hisses into the darkness, followed by what sounds like a giggle and a thump. 

Joe opens his eyes and blinks blearily while more thumps sound in the room. “Nico?” he rasps, propping himself on an elbow and switching on the bedside lamp. 

He blinks again as he’s faced with Nicky rolling on the ground as he struggles to tug off a shoe. Pausing his ministrations Nicky tilts his head back to shoot Joe a loopy smile. “Yusuf!” he says happily before shushing himself. “The kids are sleeping,” he whispers, wide-eyed. 

“Are you _drunk?_ ” Joe says, ice forming around his chest and the final remnants of sleep dissolving in a stuttered breath. 

Flopping his head up and down Nicky mumbles, “Booker ‘nd Nile made me take shots for ev’ry time I said yer name but JOKES ON THEM ‘cause I won and they had to drive me home,” he finishes with a proud and spacy grin. Joe finds himself breathing again at the confirmation that Nicky didn’t drive himself but remains puzzled at what exactly Nicky “won.” With a shake of his head, Joe chuckles and crawls out of bed while Nicky continues to fight with his laces, tongue sticking out as he does. Joe admires the ridiculous tableau for a moment; he’s never actually seen Nicky drunk before and it’s utterly endearing. (Though he’s sure he won’t think so when Nicky wakes up with a killer hangover.)

“Let me help you hayati,” Joe says gently, taking over the unlacing of Nicky’s ugly ass white sneakers. (“They’re functional Joe! I’m on my feet all night!” Nicky always protests. Like you can’t find a pair of functional _and_ fashionable footwear.) 

“Yer tha bes’,” Nicky hums, starfishing his limbs across the floor with a sigh and almost whacking Joe in the face in the process. 

“Thanks babe,” he replies with a fond shake of the head. 

Once he’s miraculously freed Nicky of his shoes, Joe fights more flailing limbs to tug off Nicky’s jeans. “Ooo tryin’ ta get in ma pants?” Nicky purrs with an attempted wink. Some of Joe’s good humour stalls at the reminder that Nicky has been slightly skittish when it comes to intimacy since he’s revealed his past to Joe. 

Shaking off the reminder of that opened message burning a hole in his phone, Joe strokes a hand through Nicky’s sweat soaked hair. “Ask me again once you're sober hayati,” Joe says with a soft smile. 

Nicky hums happily before wiggling so he’s sprawled across Joe’s chest. “Warm,” he mumbles, already fading. 

“So I’ve heard,” Joe replies with amusement. Nicky runs cold so he shamelessly leeches off of Joe’s warmth and steals his old sweatshirts and jumpers whenever he can. “C’mon up Nico, let’s put you to bed.” Resigning himself to doing laundry and tending to a miserably hungover Nicky tomorrow (Alhamdulillah Halloween landed on a Saturday this year) Joe drags Nicky into bed. This is made slightly more difficult with how Nicky clings onto Joe like a limpet, but eventually they both go sprawling across the sheets. 

Huffing heavily and reminding himself it may be time to track down those workout youtube channels again, Joe reaches out to switch off the lamp only to find himself halted by the heavy weight pressing down on him. “Are you going to let me turn off the light?” Joe asks with amusement, finding enough leverage to stroke a hand through Nicky’s hair. 

“Hrrmmph.”

“You’re gonna get cold if I can’t pull the sheets over us,” Joe warns. 

“Hrrmmmphhh,” is the grumpy response as Nicky burrows his face further into Joe’s neck and kicks around in a fruitless attempt to pull the sheets up with his legs. Chuckling, Joe gently rolls Nicky to the side, ignoring the petulant whines long enough to switch off the lamp he’s going to let Nicky replace for Nicky's birthday before grabbing his phone and pulling up the blankets around the drunken man he adores. While Nicky passes out on top of Joe almost immediately, Joe winds his arms around Nicky and pulls up their group chat. 

**_Joe_ to shit lets start a band** _Please tell me I won’t wake up later to my partner suffering from alcohol poisoning_

 **Quỳnh** _Listen we had NO IDEA he would say your name that many times_

 **Booker** _I mean I did but it was entertaining to watch_

 **Andy** _didn’t help that the drunker he got the more frequently he would mention you_

 **Quỳnh** _But don’t worry we cut him off when he hit bubbly cuddly Nicky and before he got to emotional Nicky or full on Italian Nicky_

 **Andy** _If you haven’t yet we’d suggest investing in an Italian-English dictionary for the latter eventuality_

 **Booker** _Yeah the majority of the shots were water ngl_

 **Booker** _Andy took more real shots than him_

**Joe** _That’s clearly not true if she’s writing phrases like latter eventuality at 2:30AM_

 **Quỳnh** _No Andy just has a concerningly high alcohol tolerance_

 **Andy** _FROM MY REBELLIOUS YOUTH_

 **Joe** _Please make sure none of them die tonight Book_

 **Booker** _Already drove them back to their place and tucked them in too_

 **Joe** _speaking of, where’s Nile?_

 **Booker** _*image sent*_

Joe snorts quietly at the selfie showing Booker’s unamused face above where Nile is passed out on him in a nearly identical position as Nicky. 

**Joe** _good night assholes_

 **Joe** _love you_

 **Quỳnh** _awww Joe_

 **Andy** _ew gross_

Smiling to himself, Joe sets his phone to the side and sinks further down the bed with a satisfied sigh. Nicky doesn’t even stir. Resigning himself to the inevitable overheating he’ll experience tonight (or more accurately this morning), Joe presses a soft kiss to Nicky’s temple. “I love you babe, but I don’t envy you when you wake.” And with the familiar weight of the man he loves within his arms, Joe slips back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, Topolin _o_ is actually Mickey Mouse since it's the masculine form of the name but try telling these children that.
> 
> [Amani and Basim’s costumes ](https://www.partycity.com/child-light-up-marshall-costume---nickelodeon-paw-patrol-mighty-pups-charged-up-P889662.html?dwvar_P889662_size=3-4T&cgid=paw-patrol-party-supplies)
> 
> [Andy and Quỳnh’s costumes ](https://www.partycity.com/pirate-couples-costumes-G590968.html?q=couples%20pirate%20costumes)
> 
> [ Nile and Booker’s costumes ](https://www.wondercostumes.com/nemo-dory-couples-costume-set.html)
> 
> [ Nicky and Joe’s costumes ](https://www.halloweencostumes.com/adult-cookies-and-milk-costume.html?mpid=167372&PCID=20&utm_source=RedBrain+Ltd&utm_medium=affiliate&network=CJ&affiliate_id=4023395&link_id=13428461&cjevent=f2638125576f11eb829d01cd0a240612)
> 
> [ Zahra and Ahmed’s costumes (Hakim’s is the miniature version) ](https://www.target.com/p/men-39-s-minions-dave-costume-one-size/-/A-51267644)
> 
> Also I haven’t worn a halloween costume since I was a child...they are SO expensive wtf 
> 
> Alhamdulillah: Thank god


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicky confronts his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Um. Apparently I underestimated how angsty Marco’s reply was gonna be. Like I was NOT expecting that short message leaving such an impression on you all, especially considering it appeared in a 7000 something word chapter. Oops? I promise that Marco’s reaction isn’t out of proportion and I know I’m hurting Nicky but sometimes you gotta hurt to heal. I’m kinda dying to reveal what the fuck actually happened between them since you all seem to be surprisingly on the edge of your seats so I’ve moved the confrontation up. I’m going to give some chapter warnings and then also a summary of the confrontation in the end notes for those of you who aren’t comfortable reading the scene. First I want to preface: Nicky had a REALLY rough childhood and had some serious internalised homophobia going on. I’m not saying that excuses his behavior but it explains it. The Nicky that Marco and Nicky talk about is NOT the Nicky that Joe fell in love with. Nicky has put in a lot of work in with the support and nurturing of Andy and Quỳnh. 
> 
> With that said, when Nicky and Marco talk about their shared history, on top of mentions of bullying, a past statement by Nicky is quoted which includes the “f” slur. If you'd like to skip just this moment, skip the paragraph after the line, "What was it you said?" This is like, the angstiest I see this fic ever becoming and I’m sorry if you didn’t come here for this but Nicky really needs to confront his past in order to fully feel like he deserves Joe’s love. I hope that this chapter explains Marco’s messages and Nicky’s guilt and that you find it satisfying. 
> 
> Finally, shout out to **CeCe** and **itsrebecca** who both had the brilliant idea to have Joe post on FB in order to help convince Marco that Nicky is sincere.

Nicky wakes to several needles stabbing into his skull and immediately regrets being conscious. He stays lying with his face pressed against something very soft as Nicky contemplates whether he’s dead. Then more needles stab into his head and he releases a pathetic whimper, concluding he’s in far too much pain to be dead.

“Shh my little monsters. Nicky isn’t feeling too well today,” his pillow rumbles while a hand strokes gently through his hair.

“Is Nicky Mouse okay?” a worried voice asks.

“Of course,” Nicky’s pillow replies. “He just had a bit too much fun at work last night.” 

“Drinking adult juice?” a voice Nicky distantly registers as Amani asks knowingly. 

The hand pauses, only resuming when Nicky whines quietly. “Who told you about adult juice?” 

“Uncle Booker!” Basim pipes up. 

“One day I’ll kill that man I swear,” Joe mutters. 

Gathering every ounce of his strength, Nicky tilts his head to the side and opens his eyes, immediately regretting both decisions as sunlight pierces into his skull. “Morning cuccioli,” he rasps. 

Nicky winces as a worried hand pats his cheek. God why is that jarring like an avalanche through his head? “Are you feeling okay Nicky Mouse?” Amani frets. 

Nicky sighs with relief when Joe gently guides her hand away from Nicky’s face. “I’ll be fine before you know it,” he says with a strained smile. 

“I gotta make these little monsters some breakfast Nico. Think you’re up for anything?” Joe asks. Nicky doesn’t know how his face looks but it causes Joe to huff out a breath of laughter before gently disentangling himself from Nicky’s limbs. “Bland toast it is. Amani and Basim, why don’t you keep Nicky company while you wait?” 

Nicky bites back a groan as both children clamber onto the bed and begin chattering in his ear. Okay. Yeah. This is well deserved punishment for coming home drunk. A lot of last night is fuzzy around the edges but he vaguely remembers almost giving Joe a black eye when the patient man tried to strip him of his jeans and shoes. Face burning with embarrassment, Nicky closes his eyes and lets the voices of two of his loves wash over him. Before he knows it, he’s drifted back to sleep.

When Nicky wakes again, he feels slightly more human and is distantly grateful that the blinds are closed once more. Feeling his stomach release a tentative grumble, Nicky staggers out of bed, dragging the beloved fluffy blanket with him. When Nicky reaches the hallway his lips quirk into a weak smile and he leans against the wall to watch the scene before him. Joe is on his back in a sit up position while some kind of fitness video plays on the TV. Instead of raising and lowering a medicine ball like the person in the video however, he’s raising and lowering a giggling child. Meanwhile Amani is mirroring Joe and using one of Topolina’s chew toys in lieu of a medicine ball, tongue sticking out as she does. Topolina is eyeing the toy hungrily, head rising and falling with the motions and looking like she’s about to pounce. “And _ten_ ” Joe puffs before sprawling on the floor with Basim draped over his chest. “Good work Basi,” he pants. 

“Thanks Baba,” Basim hums happily. 

“What about me?” Amani asks, mid-rep when Topolina decides her patience has run out and she snatches up the toy. “Topo _no!"_ Amani giggles, chasing after the dog. Basim scrambles up as well, kneeing Joe somewhere soft as he does. 

While the kids chase Topolina around and start playing tug-o-war, Nicky settles beside Joe, openly admiring his bare and gleaming chest. “Working out?” 

“You’re alive,” Joe beams, causing Nicky to snort lightly before faintly swaying. 

Joe scoots so he’s leaning against the couch, coffee table set to the side, and Nicky gratefully falls into his open arms. “Barely,” he mumbles in reply. 

“Poor Nico,” Joe croons, guiding Nicky down so he rests his head in Joe’s lap. “At least you won.”

“Won what?” Nicky asks with a furrowed brow.

“Beats me,” Joe laughs, tangling his fingers in Nicky’s hair and making him rumble happily. “Amidst your drunken rambling last night when you were explaining _why_ you came home utterly sloshed, you mentioned ‘winning’ something.”

Nicky racks his brain and tries to sift through hazy memories before it comes back to him. “I bet Booker that I could dance on the bar counter without falling off,” he groans. 

He doesn’t need to see Joe’s expression to know that he’s gleefully visualising this if his shaking shoulders are any indication. “I can’t tell if that would be super sexy or highly amusing so I think I need to be privy to a repeat performance,” he finally gasps out. Nicky smacks his chest half-heartedly before deciding that was far too much motion for his body at this point in time. “By the way you may want to check your whatsapp messages at some point,” Joe remarks, mirth dancing in his eyes. Nicky releases a heavy sigh, already predicting what kind of messages blew up in the group chat given the assholes he calls friends. Considering they’re to blame for his current predicament, revenge will be sweet.

 *******

“I hate to make your day slightly more miserable but I have something to confess, “ Joe says with a bite of his lip later that night. Though Nicky has recovered from his hangover, he’s still been groggy and exhausted all day and they’ve been taking it easy. 

“Hm?” Nicky prompts, keeping his eyes closed as he rests his head on Joe’s shoulder. 

Joe takes a deep breath before blurting out, “Marco messaged you back. And I opened it.” 

He winces at the way Nicky immediately stiffens. “Oh?” he says carefully. Wiggling so he can retrieve his phone from his sweats Joe offers it up. Nicky swallows before straightening and accepting the phone. Joe shifts anxiously as Nicky reads it, the slight tightening of his lips and around his eyes the only indication of his distress. “Well,” he eventually rasps, keeping his gaze fixed to the phone. “I earned that.” Joe’s heart breaks at the admission. Even if Nicky hasn’t told Joe everything he said and did to Marco in their past, clearly too ashamed to share, Joe hates to see him so resigned. 

“I had an idea,” he stutters out. “A way to convince Marco that you’re not lying?” 

“Oh?” Nicky asks, voice numb now.

Gently taking the phone, Joe swipes into his camera roll before showing Nicky the photo Ahmed took of them and the kids yesterday. “See the way you’re looking at me in this photo? You can’t fake that.”

He watches as the cogs in Nicky’s brain churn while he considers the photo. “You haven’t posted a photo of us before,” is what he ultimately murmurs. 

Joe shrugs. “I hardly go on facebook and only have it to keep in touch with some people from Tunisia and the Netherlands. This can be my yearly post.” He's not quite sure what Nicky's point is.

“And you would want to. Make our relationship public like that?” Nicky still hasn’t taken his eyes from the photo so Joe sets the phone aside. Ah, that’s what this is about.

Framing Nicky’s face Joe waits until Nicky meets his eyes. “I would shout the fact that we’re dating from the rooftops if I could,” he declares fervently. It pains him to see Nicky so meek and Joe is desperate to prove how much he’s in it for the long haul. 

Nicky averts his eyes and shrugs. “It’s your facebook page. Do what you like I guess.” 

Joe smiles tightly. Well, he’ll take it. 

While he works to come up with a caption for the post on his phone, Nicky opens up Joe’s computer and a blank document like he did the first time he messaged Marco. By the time Joe settles for “Halloween with my loves” Nicky only has one sentence. Accepting that this may take even longer than last time, Joe slings an arm around Nicky’s shoulder and settles in to wait. 

“Thoughts?” Nicky asks a little over 30 minutes later. Joe accepts the computer and reads it carefully to give it the proper consideration. 

_I understand why you don’t believe me. You have every right not to, especially after what I’m about to say. When I mentioned that I was using my friend’s account what I actually meant was my partner’s. I just had a feeling that would be harder for you to believe. I see now how that was a dumb thing to do. My partner recently posted a photo of us and our kids from Halloween. Where words fail perhaps pictures will do. As the photo will hopefully portray, I am madly in love and proudly gay. I’m sorry it took hurting you for me to start accepting myself. That’s only the beginnings of the apologies I would like to make in person if you are ever willing to give me that chance. But I understand if you’re not._

Joe knows that there are other things to focus on but what he blurts out is, “You say that Amani and Basim are yours.” 

Nicky balks. “Fuck I’m sorry,” he stammers, reaching to take the computer back but Joe leans away cradling it to his chest.

“Did you mean it?” His heart thumps loudly in his ears as Nicky stares at him like a cornered animal. Finally, licking his lips, Nicky gives a hesitant nod. With a whimper Joe launches himself into Nicky’s lap and kisses him hungrily, relishing the way Nicky grips his hips and returns the kiss with as much heat and desperation, if not more. 

But before they can really get going Nicky pulls away. “I need to send that message,” he pants. “Pause?” 

Thumping his head to Nicky’s Joe releases a sigh before nodding. “As long as I can jump your bones later.” 

Nicky flashes him a tentative smile. “Promise.” Replacing Joe with the computer in his lap, Nicky worries at a hangnail as he rereads it a couple more times before copying and pasting it into messenger. “There. We’ll see how that goes.”

*******

**Marco D’Angelo** _You forget I know what a great actor you are. So is this Yusuf someone you’ve dragged in on your game or is he another one of your hapless victims? **(Sent Monday 2 November)**_

 **Yusuf al-Kaysani** _I love this man. Please- take your anger out on me but don’t bring him into this. He deserves better. **(Sent Monday 2 November)**_

 **Marco D’Angelo** _Deserves better than you? **(Sent Wednesday 4 November)**_

 **Yusuf al-Kaysani** _Yes. Absolutely. I don’t deserve this man’s kindness, let alone his love and each day I am humbled by both. Each day I endeavor to be the man you deserved. **(Sent Wednesday 4 November)**_

 **Marco D’Angelo** _I’ll send you an address and a date. I don’t give a fuck if you’re across the goddamn country. If you’re actually legit I’ll see you soon. **(Sent Thursday 12 November)**_

*******

The address Marco sent was a cafe in California's Bay Area. Somewhere public. Not surprising. When Nicky first realised how far he needed to travel and that Marco chose a day in the middle of the week, he tried to convince Joe he would be fine coming on his own. Joe wouldn’t have it. So Patricia and Toby are staying at the apartment to take care of Amani, Basim, Cow, and Topolina while Nicky and Joe take off of work. “Believe me Nico, my boss was ecstatic when he heard I was taking a personal day,” Joe said wryly when Nicky tried to protest. At least Joe let Nicky pay for his ticket when Nicky finally caved. 

When they enter the cafe Nicky goes straight to the counter to order before he dares to scan the space. Once he’s gotten an herbal tea that he doubts he’ll drink it takes a moment for Nicky to find Marco, even with the profile picture as reference. When he finally does, Nicky finds himself swallowing. Where the scrawny kid with floppy hair used to cower, a muscled man with a ponytail, earrings, and stylish blazer now proudly sprawls. His husband (based off of his profile) is leaned close, whispering in his ear as Marco stares out a window. They make a striking couple, both well-dressed and well-groomed. 

Nicky looks down at where Joe has laced their fingers together. “Thank you for coming,” Nicky whispers, suddenly intensely grateful that he let Joe convince him.

“I’m right by your side. I won’t interrupt, this is between you two, but if you ever need me I’m right here,” Joe says with a squeeze. Nicky nods and lets Joe press their foreheads together before Nicky tilts back for a kiss, hoping to draw in some of his strength. It’s soft and lingering and exactly what Nicky needs to face down his past. When they step back Nicky finds Marco staring, expression unreadable. Fuck, he remembers how easily Marco’s emotions used to play across his face; made him such a simple target. Nicky’s stomach roils. But while Marco is keeping his emotions close to his chest, his husband’s grip around Marco’s shoulders tightens as he glares at Nicky. 

Swallowing down the taste of bile, Nicky walks towards their booth and slides in, Joe a silent shadow beside him. Marco stares him down while Nicky opens and closes his mouth several times, the entire speech he had written in his mind fleeing him. “I-” Gulping, Nicky licks dry lips before finding himself slipping into Italian. _“I’m sorry Marco. For everything. For it all,”_ he whispers. “ _I know it’s meaningless and too little too late but-I wish I could take it all back, spare you your pain.”_

Marco continues to stare him down, those forest green eyes cold and distant. Nicky shifts nervously, itching to reach out for Joe’s hand. But he knows he doesn’t earn that comfort. His fingers twitch towards Joe despite himself and Marco eyes Joe before turning his full piercing gaze back to Nicky.

 _”I see seminary didn’t work out,”_ Marco eventually comments, voice as frosty as the arctic south.

Nicky fidgets with his cup before setting it to the side and lacing his fingers in his lap. “ _No. It didn’t.”_ An arch of a brow silently demands an explanation. Nicky swallows and tightens his grip on his fingers. _“I snuck out one night. Went to a bar to drown my sorrows. Met two women, a married couple. They saved me, got me out of there.”_

“ _And, what. Opened your eyes to the wonders of homosexuality?”_ he drawls. 

Nicky swallows once more. “ _More or less.”_

“ _Taught you the error of your ways, hm?”_ Sarcasm biting, scorn like poison spreading through his chest and lungs. 

Nicky finally tears his gaze away from those accusing eyes, cowardly as it is. “ _No,”_ he whispers into his lap. “ _I was already very aware of that. Just so caught up in my own self-loathing I brought you down with me like the selfish prick I was.”_

 _“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”_ Marco snaps, the first crack in his composure.

Nicky shrinks down in his seat. _“I don’t know,”_ he says weakly. _“I just need you to know. How remorseful I am. How much I’m haunted by what I did to you. You didn’t deserve it. Any of it.”_

Silence falls between them, tense and discomfiting. When Marco speaks again that previous calculated distance is gone, replaced with something more vulnerable, more pained. _“I was so isolated. So lonely and so desperate to find anyone like me that even though you made my life a living **hell,** taunting me and shoving me into walls and flinging gum in my hair and getting all your buddies to join in-”_ Nicky closes his eyes as the list of ways he tormented the scrawny gay kid flashes before his eyes and hits him in the gut. Marco releases a bitter laugh and his voice goes low. “ _Despite **all** of it, when you approached me and came out I actually believed you. That you were just scared, had a crush on me for all those years.”_ A weighted pause. “ _Was any of it true?"_

Nicky takes a shuddering breath, biting back the tears of shame threatening to overflow. “ _I hated myself too much to have a crush. But I would watch you be unapologetically yourself despite what it got you and I **longed** for that bravery. Thought if I got close enough to touch, some of it would rub off on me.”_

Nicky’s eyes fly open at Marco’s harsh laugh and he recoils at the look of disgust twisting his features. “ _You were a cowardly fool,”_ Marco sneers. 

Nicky nods and finds he can’t stop nodding. “ _I know. I’m sorry, more than words can say. I was cruel and callous and selfish and I’ve been tormented all these years by the fear that I've ruined your life,”_ he rambles, voice breaking.

Marco’s eyes narrow and he leans forward with barely contained menace. _“Listen to me Nicolò di Genova,”_ he hisses. _”You did not define me. You did not define my future. I wasn’t about to let a kid more comfortable tormenting others than being honest with himself ruin and dictate my life.”_ Marco’s scorn whips Nicky like a lash and Nicky bites his cheek to keep from wincing. Marco leans back, crossing his arms. “ _So I applied to universities outside of Italy. Left the country, left the continent. Started fresh. Met Juan,”_ he finishes and visibly softens as Marco smiles at the man pressed up beside him, arm protectively wrapped around his shoulders while he continues to glare Nicky down. 

Marco straightens, turning his nose down at Nicky’s slumped form. _“You tore me into pieces and I stitched myself back together on my own. The only reason I agreed to meet with you is to prove that you didn’t fucking win.”_

 _“So you're happy?”_ Nicky asks in a small voice, feeling his shoulders hunch.

“ _No thanks to you.”_

Nicky nods in acceptance, gulping. He flails for what to say next and finds himself blurting out, “ _Do you still sing?”_ He used to sneak into the back of the theatre to hear Marco’s enchanting tenor. Listening to him sing was one of the only times Nicky felt anything past the loathing and anger that encased his heart. 

A weighted pause follows and Nicky lifts his gaze to find a flash of surprise cross Marco’s face before it’s hidden behind his distant veneer once more. “I own a theatre company that puts on shows with troubled youth,” he murmurs, the first words of English since they began. He’s not as accented as Nicky, like it’s a part of his identity he’s attempted to strip away. 

“Good for you,” Nicky says weakly. 

Another silence. “You still play?”

“Play?” Joe blurts out, wincing at his broken promise. 

Marco turns his sharp gaze on Joe. “Didn’t he tell you? He played football. Was good too. Agents were practically knocking down his door. There were talks that he would go pro once he graduated.” 

Joe turns wide eyes to Nicky whose head is hanging low, hands clenched in a fist. “I haven’t touched a ball since that day,” he rasps.

A beat. “You loved it.” Nicky can hear the disbelief in Marco’s voice, and he doesn’t blame him. Football was his life, his one escape, the only hobby his parents would permit him to do. It’s also where he found the friends that would help him torment Marco. 

“Sì.” Nicky swallows before lifting his head to meet Marco’s gaze again. “And I didn’t deserve to enjoy it after the way I treated you.”

The brief moment of surprise vanishes to be replaced once more with carefully maintained composure. “I didn’t realise I mattered,” Marco says lightly. “What was it you said?” he muses, tapping a finger to his chin before his eyes sharpen like a wicked knife. “Oh that’s right. You’re just a pathetic-“

“fag,” Nicky finishes. Taking a shaky breath and looking Marco in the eye, he continues, voice wobbly and tearful. “You thought I actually _liked_ you? It was just a dare me and my friends made for me to pretend to secretly date the biggest loser in the school. Just a joke. I’m not a disgusting fag like you.” As he finishes, voice cracking, Nicky feels tears streaming down his face and watches through a blurry lens the way Marco’s eyes widen, how his mouth gapes open with shock. 

And he can feel Joe’s gaze burning a hole in the side of his head. Though he described to Joe how he treated Marco he couldn’t bear to repeat what he had said that day in a panic-filled haze. Now it’s out in the open. He distantly wonders if this is what will finally push Joe away. “You remember,” Marco says faintly. 

Nicky’s eyes squeeze shut while his frame wracks with silent sobs. “How could I forget such cruelty.” 

A long moment passes as Nicky’s usual self-hatred curdles through his stomach and twists within his heart. Nicky jolts when calloused fingers brush his hand a moment later. He opens his eyes to gaze helplessly at Joe, relieved beyond reason to see not disgust but familiar love and reassurance. Finally caving, Nicky leans to the side until Joe meets him halfway so their foreheads are pressed together, grounding him. Fingers run through Nicky’s hair and he allows himself this momentary weakness before he finally draws away, lacing his fingers with Joe's before he can stop himself. 

When he turns back to Marco he’s staring at where Nicky and Joe’s hands are twined together. “So what did it?” he murmurs. “What caused Nicolò di Genova, the biggest bully in the school, the jock who got every girl’s number, to finally come out as a flaming homosexual?”

“All the girls giving me their numbers was a good first step,” Nicky jokes weakly, wincing as he reminds himself that he shouldn’t make light of this. 

He’s surprised then when Marco snorts. “I knew all those rumours were bullshit.”

Nicky nods with a rueful smile. “They would throw themselves at me and I would insist I didn’t have the time. Too busy practicing football.”

“How convenient for you.” 

Nicky shrugs helplessly before properly answering the question. “It was watching Quỳnh and Andy. Their love is so pure, so beautiful. I would watch them interact and realised that a love like theirs couldn’t be wrong.” He pauses before smiling fondly. “Plus Andy punched me the one and only time I called it a sin.” 

Marco barks out a laugh and now Nicky is certain he never heard that sound leave his mouth, not even during those few weeks when they saw each other. “Remind me to thank this Andy person.” 

“I’m sure it’s one of her prouder moments,” Nicky says with a small smile before sobering. “I always knew what I was, Marco. Since I was in primary and thought Salvatore’s eyes were pretty. But I knew my parents, knew the game even then. So I kept my mouth shut and kept that part of me buried deep in the closet. And when you came out so bravely, so casually like it was _easy_ for you...” Nicky shakes his head. “Dio, I resented you so much Marco. As cruel and unfair as that sounds.”

Marco’s jaw tightens. “It wasn’t _easy_ Nicolò. You of all people ensured that.”

Nicky bows his head in acquiescence. “I know.” And the question that’s been burning in the back of his throat for years finally rises up. Flicking his gaze back up he asks, “Then why did you do it?” Nicky still remembers that day vividly. A group of boys were trading names of their current crushes during lunch. When it got to him Nicky looked down his nose and called them childish for having crushes so he could avoid naming someone. But when it was Marco’s turn he had shrugged and said that none of the girls interested him and he was more interested in boys. From that moment on he was a social pariah. 

Marco turns to study the window once more as Nicky’s question hovers in the air between them. “I guess I thought living a lie would hurt more. Perhaps it was a miscalculation. I guess I’ll never know.” 

“Living a lie hurt,” Nicky says, voice hoarse. “It hurt a lot.” He sighs shakily. “But not as much as I undoubtedly hurt you.” 

That sharp gaze turns back to Nicky and _god_ he still remembers those fleeting furtive weeks when the wariness in those eyes melted to something warmer, fonder. Until that fateful night, when all they reflected was a broken heart. “Why did you reach out to me now Nicolò? Just to apologise over 10 years too late?

Nicky fidgets with his forgotten tea. “It’s like I said. I was terrified of what became of you and Joe suggested I try tracking you down on social media so I could find out and hopefully apologise.” Nicky swallows spasmodically. “But I see it was presumptuous of me to think I would’ve affected your life at all.”

“You did Nicolò. More than I wish,” Marco grits out, curling his hands into fists. “Spite fueled me for years until I met Juan and he helped soften it to something more productive.” 

“I have heard your name cross the lips of my love far too many times for my liking,” Juan cuts in, speaking for the first time all morning. His voice is softer than Nicky expected considering the glare he’s been shooting him this entire conversation. But now Juan is looking at Marco’s profile while the other man looks down. “Marco has forged a life for himself not because of or in spite of you though. It’s come from the strength, passion, and abilities he holds himself. None of his success has anything to do with your influence.”

“Though I suppose I can give you credit for some of those first boxing bags I broke in Juan’s gym,” Marco smirks, winking at his husband. Juan laughs in a low rumble like this is an old joke.

“Remind me not to challenge you to a fight,” Nicky jokes weakly. 

Marco’s mirth disappears and his expression shutters once more. “You would lose. For once.” 

Nicky shrinks within himself and ducks his head at the reminder. “Would that be cathartic for you?” He croaks. “If you finally had a chance to hit back?”

“I’m not explaining to Amani and Basim why you ended up in the hospital,” Joe says sharply, his grip on Nicky’s hand turning painful. 

When Nicky looks at Joe and sees his eyes wide with panic he fully processes what he just suggested. Shit. “Fuck hayati I shouldn’t have said that, I’m so sorry,” Nicky frets. Chastising himself as Joe’s breathing picks up Nicky grasps the nape of his neck and presses their foreheads together. “Breathe for me amore mio, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” Nicky soothes, deliberately slowing his breath. “In and out Joe, that’s it.” Joe’s breath stutters and stops as it often does with his panic attacks but Nicky continues his own steady breathing. “Feel my hand on my neck. Feel how my forehead rests on yours, sì? I’m right here my heart.” Joe does as he’s told, closing his eyes to properly feel where they’re connected. Thankfully, after only a few moments his breath steadies out and his tremors begin to fade. “There you go my love,” Nicky whispers. “You’re doing wonderfully.”

With a shaky sigh Joe draws away and studies Nicky for a weighted moment, eyes roving across his face as he reassures himself that Nicky is here, is safe. Nicky brushes a thumb along Joe cheek as he recalls the little Italian Joe spoke when Nicky first confessed the sins of his past. “Sono qui tesoro, sono qui.” Joe drinks Nicky’s face in for another beat before nodding and turning to Juan and Marco, straightening and fidgeting with his cap as he does. “Sorry for causing a scene,” he says awkwardly, clearing his throat. He looks at Marco with pleading eyes. “I understand why you’re angered and hurt by Nicky but please-“ fuck Nicky hates how Joe’s voice cracks. 

“It’s okay Yusuf,” Marco says gently, eyes soft with compassion. “I have no intention of harming your partner. There’s been enough bad blood between us.”

Joe hangs his head and sags at that pronouncement. “Thank you,” he rasps. 

Nicky keeps his gaze on Joe as he rubs his back soothingly. “Want me to get you some tea, love?” 

“I can-“ he starts weakly, moving as if to get up.

But Nicky shakes his head. “Please. Let me.” Nicky presses a kiss to Joe’s forehead. “I’m so sorry Joe. I spoke thoughtlessly.”

“It’s okay Nico,” Joe says with a weak smile. 

Nicky clenches his jaw, anger at himself raging through his chest. “No. It’s not.” Pressing another soft kiss to Joe’s cheek he climbs over him to get out of the booth.

“That herbal tea you never touched smelled good. Can I have that please ya amar?” Joe whispers. 

Nicky reaches down to squeeze Joe’s hand. “Anything for you Yusuf.”

When he returns a few minutes later bearing two cups of tea with the plan to actually drink his this time, Marco is asking Joe, “So they’re not actually his?”

Nicky grits his teeth at the fact that his insensitive comment compelled Joe to share his background when he never should have needed to. “They are in every way that matters,” Nicky says firmly as Joe slides to the side and allows Nicky to slip back in the booth. He can feel Joe’s warm gaze on him at his pronouncement.

“Never saw you as the family type,” Marco comments with a raised brow.

“Me neither,” Nicky shrugs. “Then again I also hadn’t imagined myself ending up in a happy and healthy relationship one day either.” He winces, realising how that sounds. “I’m sorry for using you,” he fumbles out. “I wanted so desperately to know what it was like to be myself I didn’t care how you would be affected.”

Nicky shifts in his seat as Marco’s expression darkens. “So glad I could be of service,” he replies bitterly. Then Marco crosses his arms with a sigh. “In retrospect secretly dating the boy who bullied me for several years wasn’t the healthiest of life choices.” He barks out a harsh laugh. “Should’ve known from the start that you cared more about your reputation and yourself than a loser like me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Nicky says brokenly, despair clawing at his throat. “But you don’t know what it was like in my home Marco. You saw how my father reacted when he caught us! That was just the tip of the goddamned iceberg!” 

Marco falters, closing his mouth from what he was about to say. “That doesn’t excuse what I did, especially that night I _know_ it doesn’t,” Nicky starts to ramble, eyes stinging. “But Marco you don’t know what it was _like.”_ He lets himself be drawn towards Joe’s chest so he can bury his face into Joe’s shoulder and compose himself. “I’m sorry I took my pain out on you, no one deserved that _especially_ you I just-” Nicky takes a shaky breath and finds himself steadying at the grounding citrus scent of Joe. “I don’t know,” he groans, raising his head and slumping at the sight of Marco’s stoic mask and stiff posture, shut off once more. Nicky feels panic rise in him again and he squeezes Joe’s arm far too tightly. “I know I was cruel! I know it was unfair! I just don’t know what to do to make it right! 

“I’ve tried to do better,” Nicky continues raggedly, scrubbing his face. “That fire hasn’t burned away, the one that threatened to consume you along with me.” He swallows. “But I’ve had time. Time and support to face what I’ve done and accept myself for who I am away from the influence of my father and mother. Time to try to be a better person and repent even though I’ll never be able to fully earn your forgiveness.” He looks at Marco, eyes watery and wide. “Please- I want to make it up to you, late and inadequate though it may be. Just...tell me what I need to do to make this right.” 

Another silence follows, the longest one yet. “It’s not like you can go back in time Nicolò,” Marco eventually mutters. He flicks his gaze to Joe, to where Nicky and his arms are interlocked in a one-armed embrace, to where they are leaning into each other and holding one another up. “But it’s clear you’ve changed.” Marco leans back in his chair and crosses his arms before studying Nicky for a long moment while Nicky tries not to fidget. “I don’t know if I can forgive you right now,” he says quietly. “But I think this may be the first step.” With a sigh he shakes his head. “I can’t give you what you need though Nicolò. Only you can fully forgive what you’ve done. And in time perhaps I will too.” 

Nicky blinks tears out of his eyes and nods in understanding before licking his lips, knowing this is far better than he could ever have hoped for. “Would you be comfortable giving me the name of your theatre?” he asks weakly. “So I can see a show at some point?” 

A beat. “Maybe I’ll message you. One day.” 

*******

When they board the plane Nicky immediately passes out, emotionally drained from the confrontation this morning. Joe frowns into space as he pieces together the conversation in the cafe. (Alhamdulillah they eventually switched to English.) He’s still reeling from what Nicky had said to Marco that terrible night. Joe knew that Nicky felt like what he said to Marco was unforgivable but he had no idea it was so horrid. He takes a deep breath and studies Nicky’s profile pressed against the window. Does this change anything? Does this change how he feels? Joe immediately dismisses the notion. Nicky isn’t that person anymore. And he’s worked too hard to better himself to be judged for his past mistakes. 

Joe brushes a hand through Nicky’s hair, drawing away when Nicky stirs and flickers his eyes open. “Sorry,” Joe whispers. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” Nicky sighs and shifts so he’s resting upon Joe’s shoulder. “How are you holding up?” Joe asks in a hushed tone.

Nicky wiggles closer and Joe wraps a protective arm around him. “I don’t know,” Nicky confesses. He pulls back enough to gaze up at Joe, expression guarded. “Changed your mind about running away?” 

Joe presses a kiss to Nicky’s forehead. “Never.” And as the word crosses Joe’s lips he knows it’s true. Nicky has exposed all of his skeletons to Joe and if anything it’s made Joe love him more. That this man who was capable of such cruelty and experienced so much pain has worked tirelessly to better himself...how could Joe look at him with anything but admiration? 

He feels Nicky sag at Joe’s declaration. “I may need to hear that a few more times,” Nicky says weakly. “To properly believe you.” 

“As much as you need,” Joe vows. “I love you Nicolò di Genova. With all my heart.” 

Nicky sighs and Joe watches as his eyes flutter shut once more. “Then I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

*******

When they arrive back home Nicky sweeps Amani and Basim into a tight hug, squeezing tighter when they giggle and try to squirm away. He furrows his brow however when he registers that it’s far too late for both of them to be awake. “What are you two doing up?” he demands, drawing away. 

Patricia releases a long sigh as she pats Topolina’s head from where she’s pressed against the woman’s leg adoringly. “They refused to go to bed until you got home. Couldn’t even bribe them with sweets.” 

“Oh my precious troublesome cuccioli,” Nicky tuts, falling onto his knees to draw them into another embrace. “You will be quite grumpy tomorrow I expect.” 

“Bedtime?” Basim asks, snuggling closer. 

Nicky smiles fondly at how Joe attempts to disguise his yawn, slumping under the weight of his computer bag. It’s been a long day. “Bedtime.” 

After indulging in far too many bedtime stories and songs given the hour, Nicky finds himself in his favourite place: within Joe’s arms. “Tell me a story?” He asks meekly, the demons of his past looming at the edges of his consciousness. 

Joe hums, nuzzling Nicky’s ear. “Let’s see...There was once a prince trapped in a tower of vines,” he starts and Nicky smiles into the curve of Joe’s neck. He loves Joe’s inventive stories. Makes him think Joe could publish some picture books if he wanted. “One day a brave warrior cut a path through the vines and approached the prince, chest heaving from exertion. He was quite a handsome sight,” Joe remarks with a wink, earning a huff of laughter and an eye roll from Nicky. 

“‘Who has trapped you in this prison?’” The brave warrior demanded. ‘I will slay such a beast where they stand.’ 

“‘Me,’ the prince admitted with a bowed head. And he told the brave warrior that he lost his first love many moons ago and, so afraid of baring his heart once more, decided it was safer to lock himself away.” Joe’s voice grows hushed as he brushes a strand of hair from Nicky’s eyes. “But in so doing the prince forgot what it’s like to live and the kingdom fell to darkness without his knowing. As he gazed into the benevolent eyes of the brave warrior though, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to let himself love again. 

“‘Well I will just have to remain here,’ the warrior declared. ‘Until you learn to live once more.’ And the warrior lived up to his promise, brushing off a dusty game of chess and challenging the prince to a match. The prince won of course.” 

Nicky snorts into Joe’s neck, recalling the many nights they’ve played chess ever since Nicky taught him how to play a month ago. “The prince certainly cheated then,” he claims. 

Joe gasps dramatically. “Blasphemy!” Pecking Nicky’s nose Joe grins. “And you are not the storyteller.” Adjusting himself so Nicky is more secure in his arms Joe hums. “Now where was I?” 

“The prince was cheating at chess.” 

Joe blows a raspberry and bites Nicky’s ear in retaliation. Like that’s supposed to dissuade Nicky rather than encourage him. “Rude. Well anyway, the prince soon learned that not only was the warrior noble but he also had a wicked sense of humour and a sharp strategic mind. Soon the prince wanted nothing more but to ply those hidden depths, learn what made the warrior tick. What made him passionate, what made him fearful, what made him laugh. And before he knew it, the prince was falling deeply, madly, in love.” 

Joe rubs his thumb gently along Nicky’s cheek while Nicky holds his breath, enraptured by the story. “But when he approached the warrior, confident that his feelings were reciprocated, the warrior turned aside,” Joe says, eyes mournful. “‘You can do far better than me my prince,’ the warrior insisted. ‘I am tainted, I am wicked.’ This puzzled the prince and when he asked for an explanation the warrior admitted to past crimes. He once fought for the enemy of the prince’s kingdom you see, not knowing any better. ‘But you are here now,’ the prince exclaimed. ‘Why should I care about who you once were rather than who you have become?’” 

Joe smiles sadly while Nicky swallows past a lump in his throat. “But the warrior couldn’t accept the prince’s love, believing himself too unworthy. So the prince set out to prove him wrong, writing poetry and sonnets, painting loving portraits of the subject of his affections, playing on his lute and serenading the dear noble warrior.” Joe’s smile grows wicked. “Well ultimately the warrior was no match for the prince’s charms and he found himself kissing the prince and drawing him into a desperate embrace in no time at all. And as they kissed the vines receded, the dark clouds broke, and the sun graced the kingdom once more.” Joe shoots Nicky a lopsided grin. “And you know what happened next?” Nicky nods, smiling softly. “The prince and warrior lived happily ever after.” 

Nicky finds all the words of love and gratitude trapped in his throat as the final images of the story fade away in his mind, as Joe gazes at him with love shining from his eyes. It’s clear what Joe was saying but Nicky can’t help but think the roles should be switched; Joe is the one who’s broken through the darkness in Nicky’s world after all. But when Nicky tries to explain that he finds that no words come. He’s too emotionally raw to find the proper words to express everything Joe is to him at the moment. Hopefully Nicky will be able to describe even a fraction of his love and adoration and gratitude for this remarkable man tomorrow. 

So in lieu of anything to say tonight, Nicky flips Joe onto his back, delighting in his yelp. He looms over Joe and admires how his eyes darken. “And what came after the kissing?” Nicky asks, tracing a finger down Joe’s chest as anticipation thrums through his body, desperate to escape so Nicky can express his love for Joe in the most primal way possible. 

“The prince brought the warrior to his chambers,” Joe gasps, arching up as Nicky begins biting along his neck. 

“Oh?” Nicky prompts. 

“And he ravishes the warrior, proves with every touch his love.” Joe’s voice raises a pitch as Nicky reaches his target. 

“Tell me. What deliciously decadent and sinful things do they get up to?” Nicky purrs as he pulls down Joe’s waistband. 

“Let me show you,” Joe breathes, reaching down before thoroughly taking Nicky apart. 

When they lay gasping, sweaty and messy and so very in love a while later, Joe shoots Nicky a besotted grin. “What?” Nicky says stupidly, brain still partially offline. 

“You called me hayati,” Joe says with a happy wiggle. “At the cafe.” 

“Well I finally got you to translate it for me. How was I supposed to _not_ shamelessly steal it?” Nicky quips with a crooked grin.

“I guess that means I get to call you tesoro then,” Joe hums as he wraps Nicky in his arms. 

Nicky feels his cheeks warm as now _he_ wiggles with pleasure. But then he winces and gently slaps Joe’s arms away. “Let me clean us up. Then snuggles.” Joe gives a displeased rumble before rolling away in an effort to get something to clean them himself. He’s always slow and lazy after sex though so Nicky easily beats him to it like usual. 

“So good to me,” Joe sighs, drawing Nicky into a languid kiss once he’s done cleaning them both. 

“It’s the very least I can do for the man who brightens my days,” Nicky murmurs as he slips back under the sheets. He smiles and tilts Joe’s chin up as he attempts to duck his head bashfully. “And for the man who helped me gain closure I never thought I’d get,” Nicky whispers. He kisses Joe softly and relishes how he melts into Nicky’s kiss, always so pliant and willing to be guided. When they break apart Nicky strokes a hand through Joe’s curls. “Thank you. For suggesting I reach out. For being at my side.” 

Joe draws Nicky into another kiss, this one longer and somehow sweeter. “Thank you for entrusting me with your past and with your pain.” 

Nicky closes his eyes and presses his head against Joe’s chest, soothed by the thrum of his heartbeat. “I don’t want to hide anything from you. I would bare my heart to you if I could.” 

Joe smiles softly. “You already have Nico. And I find it beautiful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Synopsis: Marco starts to quote a statement Nicky made to him when they were caught by his father before Nicky finishes it because he still remembers what he said. In a panic Nicky had attempted to claim that him dating Marco was just a prank and that he wasn’t actually gay. During this moment he calls Marco the f slur. It's also revealed that Nicky bullied Marco for several years before they secretly dated. After a long conversation in which Nicky confronts and apologises for his actions as well as explains where they came from, he and Marco part amicably. 
> 
> I’ve made myself half-mad with this Marco scene because I really wanted to do both characters justice. I know I don’t usually ask for comments because I feel pretty awkward doing so but I would greatly appreciate honest feedback if you’re comfortable giving it. Whenever I get a comment short or long it truly validates the time and effort I put into this story, especially emotionally intense chapters like this one that have me questioning my writing again. And if this scene absolutely sucked that would be helpful to know.
> 
> On another note I also know that my readers may vary in age, geography, and background so I’m including helpline resources if you or someone you know is being bullied and/or struggling with their gender identity/sexual orientation. 
> 
> https://respectme.org.uk/page-3/what-are-my-options/  
> https://www.beyondbullying.com/youngpeople  
> https://www.thetrevorproject.org/get-help-now/  
> https://www.thetrevorproject.org/resources/trevor-support-center/  
> https://itgetsbetter.org/get-help/  
> https://ibpaworld.org/resources/resources-for-youth/  
> https://www.heardalliance.org/youth-bullying/


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With love and support, things start getting back to normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had such a difficult time responding to your comments because each and every one left me speechless. (Which, considering the length of this fic that was supposed to be three chapters, is saying something). I was really nervous releasing the last chapter for a number of reasons and slipped down the good ol’ fashion “writer insecurity road” so I cannot express the gratitude I feel for all of you not only assuaging my fears but also writing some of the most thoughtful and kind comments I’ve ever been given. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your enthusiastic support, feedback, and kindness <3

Nicky finishes wiping down the bar counter with a sigh. Tossing the towel to the side he turns and calls out to Andy, “See you Friday.” 

When he turns back around Nicky finds his exit blocked by Quỳnh however. He furrows his brow in confusion. “Why are you here? You didn’t even have a shift tonight.” Nicky looks to Andy for back up only to find her mirroring her wife, both of them staring him down with crossed arms and a solemn expression. “Am I finally being fired?” he jokes weakly. “I knew this day would come.” He swallows when they don’t respond. 

“Sit,” Quỳnh nods to the side. Trepidation spreading through his chest but knowing better than to disobey, Nicky pulls up a bar stool and sits down. Meanwhile Quỳnh rounds the bar counter so she and Andy are standing side by side and looking down at him. He has sudden flashbacks to one of the innumerable times when they would confront him over an asshole move he made in the early days. There were a lot of scenes like this back then. 

“You’ve been off for weeks,” Quỳnh starts. “We’ve been trying to wait for you to come to us but you clearly won’t. So what the fuck is going on Nicky? Are you and Joe alright?” It’s only now that Nicky sees the worry in both women’s eyes. 

“Yes, of course! Joe and I are great, couldn’t be better actually,” Nicky rushes out. “There’s nothing-” he falters when he sees the underlying hurt crossing their faces. Andy and Quỳnh can see right through him and it’s clear they think he’s keeping something from them. Which he is.

It’s not that he _wanted_ to keep it a secret but he knew they would’ve talked him out of it out of a sense of protectiveness if they had known what he was doing. And he’s just been trying to find the best way to confess since. 

Fiddling with the towel he had left on the counter in a mindless move he never would’ve made if he was fully present, Nicky studies the worn oak. “Remember when I asked for the day off last Wednesday? Wanted to treat Joe because he had a bad week?” Nicky looks up as both women nod. Taking a slow breath Nicky murmurs, “It was a lie. Me and Joe flew out to see Marco.” 

“ _What?”_ Andy hisses, planting her hands on the counter and leaning forward. 

“Are you out of your damn mind?" Quỳnh adds, mouth gaping open. 

Nicky winces. There’s a reason why he had been delaying the inevitable. “It went fairly well considering?” he says weakly. Rounding the counter, Andy grabs Nicky by the ear and drags him to a booth. Nicky obediently allows himself to be towed and plops down while Andy and Quỳnh slip in across from him.

“Tell us everything,” Andy demands. 

So Nicky confesses how his whole story flooded out one night, how Joe encouraged him to reach out to Marco on Facebook, how they ended up flying out to California just so Nicky can try to apologize. He feels a weight leave his shoulders as everything pours out. It didn’t feel right keeping it from them considering the role both women played in his life but Nicky didn’t know how to tell them.

When he gets to the end of the story both women are shaking their heads at him. “That could’ve ended badly Nicky,” Quỳnh rasps, her hands clenching his in a death grip. 

“I know,” Nicky says with a bowed head. 

When he braves a glance at Andy she’s leaning back in the booth with her arms crossed and lips pinched. “You moved past that part of your life Nicky. You’re not that kid anymore,” she says quietly. 

“I still had to apologise,” Nicky insists. “I still had to try to make it right.” 

Now Andy’s eyes flash. “And?” she demands. “How did that go for you? If this week is any indication it’s clearly fucked you up even more.” Nicky winces, knowing he’s deserved that. He tried throwing himself into work but kept finding himself distracted, mind flashing back to Marco’s accusing eyes, to his cold facade that cracked and revealed a bone deep hurt the longer they spoke. 

“I’m still… processing,” Nicky murmurs. “I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me. And I can’t blame him.” He scrubs his face with a sigh. “And having that chapter in my life brought to the surface again...it’s like all the memories are battering against my skull. It’s like I hear their voices in my head again.” 

Andy grips the nape of Nicky’s neck and gently draws their heads together in a move Nicky’s only now realising he stole from her to use with Joe. It’s always brought a semblance of comfort to him. “You’re not there anymore Nicky,” she says firmly, her cool forehead and palm grounding him. “We got you out. You got _yourself_ out. You can move past them.”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” Quỳnh hisses, her usual affable demeanor turning fierce. “If I ever meet your so-called parents I’m gonna beat them to a pulp.” Quỳnh picks Nicky’s hand up and presses it to her lips, eyes softening. “Don’t let them draw you back in Nicky,” she pleads. “They don’t deserve that.” 

Nicky slumps back in his seat. “I know. You’re right,” he mutters. “And I don’t want to see them. Don’t want anything to do with them. It’s just so fresh again.” He can feel tears pricking his eyes and soon finds himself sandwiched by the two women who saved him. He laughs wetly as Quỳnh climbs over him to snuggle against his side closer to the wall. They hold him as Nicky composes himself, unwilling to break down right now. 

“What do you need Nicky?” Andy eventually asks, voice soft as she strokes a gentle hand through his hair. And it says how emotionally raw he is that Nicky can’t even tease Andy for dropping her tough exterior. 

“Can we have a night? Like we used to have in the old days?” he requests meekly. 

Andy and Quỳnh trade a grin. “I’ll buy the nail polish,” Quỳnh says. 

“I’ll buy the ice cream.” 

“Will you be able to call out though?” Nicky asks Quỳnh, knowing she has a shift tomorrow. 

Quỳnh rolls her eyes. “I’m the boss, remember? Besides, Val was looking to pick up an extra shift or two this week anyway.” 

“So tomorrow?” he asks, hope fluttering in his chest. 

Andy nudges his shoulder with a nod. “Tomorrow.” 

“Now go home to your man,” Quỳnh orders shoving him and in doing so Andy out of the booth. 

“Give him a goodnight kiss for me,” Andy calls with a shit-eating grin while she stumbles to her feet and Quỳnh cackles. 

Nicky gives them the finger as he walks out. “You two are absolute assholes,” he declares with a grin. 

“Aw, we love you too Nicky!” Quỳnh croons. 

Turning back to them he flutters his lashes, “Make sure you pick a colour that goes with my eyes.” 

“No promises!” And with the anticipation of tomorrow and a certain lightness in his chest, Nicky goes home to the rest of his family. 

*******

Joe grins to himself as he nods to the delivery man and closes the door. With Nicky out tonight, he could’ve cooked but Joe preferred to take in some Italian so Nicky can squawk with outrage when he sees the leftovers tomorrow. When Nicky mentioned tentatively that he was going to spend the evening and most likely the night with Andy and Quỳnh, Joe couldn’t help but feel relieved. He hasn’t been fully himself since Marco, and despite all the affection and comfort Joe has been showering Nicky with, Joe is still a relatively new presence in his life. Spending time with the two women who saw the worst in Nicky and still accepted him is probably exactly what he needs. Besides, it’ll give Joe some valuable time to work on Nicky’s birthday gift and the kids to work on his cards. 

While they eat, Amani and Basim brainstorm what they will write on Nicky’s birthday cards and ask Joe to write what they come up with on a piece of paper so they can copy it down. But when they sit to work on them after dinner, Joe can’t help but frown. While Basim has gotten better with his lettering Amani seems to continue to struggle with hers. Even with Joe’s writing to refer to, she’s reversing her letters and misspelling nearly every word, relying more on sound than the words Joe spelt out for her. Unease starts to tangle in his stomach. The drawbacks of specialising in secondary is that Joe isn’t quite sure where students should be by late November of first grade. 

He looks back at Basim whose handwriting is messy but whose letters more or less mirror Joe’s. Joe forces himself to take a steady breath. It could just be that Basim is advanced for his age. He turns back to where Amani has written a “b” as a “d.” Or that Amani is just very behind. He gulps. Or something else. Making a note to email their teacher to check in, Joe returns to his painting. It could be nothing. But perhaps it’s time to dig up his old literacy textbooks again. 

Later that evening after Joe sent out the email and put Amani and Basim to bed (with a video call from Nicky), Joe greets Nile and Booker with warm surprise. He texted them an invite for dinner but when he got no response he figured they were busy. It was mid-meal when Booker texted him back. 

**_Booker_ to the three musketeers** _Sorry man passed out on a pile of research papers and_

 **Booker** _*image sent*_

**Booker** _she hasn’t moved from this spot all afternoon and didn’t even register my presence when I asked if she wanted to come over_

Joe snorted at the image of Nile with multiple paint brushes in her afro, a t-shirt that’s definitely Booker’s that’s covered in paint, and what looked like Baby Yoda pajama pants. 

**Joe** _If you know what’s good for you don’t disturb her_

**Booker** _I’m pretty sure she hasn’t eaten all day so hopefully the smell of burning will drag her away_

Joe rolled his eyes when he saw that. With several follow up tutoring sessions from the terrifying duo that is Nicky and Patricia in a kitchen, Booker was becoming a rather decent cook. (Though the occasional charred dish still features in group chat every so often.)

 **Joe** _Oh poor besotted Booker, willing to risk his life for love_

**Booker** _*middle finger*_

With that conversation he wasn’t expecting to see Booker and Nile at his door an hour and a half later so it’s a rather pleasant surprise. Given the fact that Nile’s eyes are still burning with that light of creation and under her arm is one of her sketchbooks, Joe isn’t quite sure Nile is fully aware of where she is. “C’mon mon bonheur that’s it, just sit on this couch and get back to drafting your next piece,” Booker coaxes, ushering her into the living room. Nile mutters to herself about proper shading and colours as she mindlessly accepts her art kit full of charcoals and pencils from Booker. 

“Knee deep in commissions, huh?” Joe remarks with amusement while Nile opens to a page depicting the rough outline of two women in a sweeping dance. 

“Yup.” 

“At least we’ll be able to watch football without being interrupted by obnoxious Americans,” Joe says with a playful nudge. 

Booker watches his partner mournfully. “I like being interrupted by _one_ obnoxious American,” he muses. Joe bites his lip to stem the laughter threatening to bubble up. The fact is, he’s ecstatic for Booker. After all Booker has gone through and done for Joe, the prospect of him having a second chance at happiness, especially with someone as amazing as Nile, warms his heart. “Nooo don’t look at me like that,” Booker groans as he watches Joe out of the corner of his eye. 

“Like what?” Joe asks innocently, snagging his own sketchbook and sitting next to Nile who makes no indication that she registers his presence other than a vague “hm.” 

“Those wide doe eyes that you always shoot me when you’re about to say something sappy,” Booker grumbles, slumping next to Nile’s other side and snatching up the remote. 

“All I was gonna say is that I never thought you would fall in love with someone who calls football _soccer,”_ Joe says with a shit-eating grin before ducking the thrown remote with a yelp. 

“Love is about accepting people’s flaws,” Booker says obstinately before looking at Nile with a pained expression. “Even if your love’s flaws are too big to comprehend.” 

“American football is better,” Nile mumbles without taking her eyes off her art. While Joe and Booker launch into a familiar rant, Nile tunes them out as always, humming to herself as she continues to create. Through it all, Joe can’t help but grin. He loves his asshole family.

*******

“So how did Joe take the whole Marco thing?” Quỳnh asks as she carefully paints a hot pink coat on Nicky’s toenails while Nicky braids her hair from the couch. 

“Too well,” Nicky says with a shake of his head, opening up his mouth so Andy can toss some popcorn in it. “I’m not quite sure he’s human.”

“Ooo Nicky didn’t know you were so kinky,” Andy comments with a wink before turning back to the trashy reality TV show flashing on the screen.

“Asshole,” Nicky grumbles, elbowing her in the gut and causing her to laugh breathlessly. 

“You love me,” she insists. 

“ _I_ certainly won’t continue to if you cause Nicky to ruin this braid or smudge my hard work,” Quỳnh warns. 

While Andy obediently shuts up, knowing better than to tempt fate, Nicky focuses on his current braid for a long moment before speaking again. “I know I’ve said it before but I’ll never be able to fully repay you both,” he murmurs. “For listening to my story, for getting me out.” Nicky feels his throat close up. “I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t. And I don’t think I want to know.” 

Andy presses a soft kiss to Nicky’s temple, the only motherly gesture he’ll let her get away with without roasting her lovingly. “We couldn’t walk away from you Nicky, even if you were a proper bastard when we met,” Andy murmurs, stroking a hand through his hair. Nicky recalls fondly how many times Andy would shake him by the nape of the neck, gently chastising and lecturing him on an asshole move or comment he would make. And when Nicky finally collapsed into a puddle of tears, sobbing that he didn’t think he was made to be good, that’s when trashy TV, ice cream, and pampering night was instituted. 

They realised early on that it calmed and centered Nicky when he had something to focus on like doing their nails or hair. That's how he got into calligraphy after all. When Nicky could finally cook without burning a meal, that was another aspect added to these nights. The activities allowed Nicky to take the pain and anger and channel it into something productive, into something beautiful. Whenever two or all three of them didn’t have a shift, they would curl up together and Nicky would talk and process his childhood, his past mistakes, while they pampered each other. Andy and Quỳnh always listened without judgement and would gently guide him on the right path when he strayed back into old habits, old ways of thinking. It was during these sacred nights that Nicky crawled out of the hollow shell of his past life and began forging himself into the person he wanted to be. 

Nicky huffs out a breath of laughter as he’s reminded of a comment from Joe. “What’s so funny?” Andy demands as she returns with two pints of ice cream. Quỳnh reaches up for the mint chocolate chip one greedily and Andy sits on the floor beside her so they can share the ice cream and a spoon like the disgustingly in love couple they are. 

Accepting his own spoon and ice cream Nicky smiles into it. “I’m just remembering something Joe said when I first told him everything. He compared me to the characters of The Good Place. And I’m just realising that you two were my own personal Chidis teaching me right from wrong when I needed guidance.” 

“The Good Place?” Andy asks with a frown. 

Nicky rolls his eyes before grabbing the remote. He forgot that they’re more likely to watch crime and action shows than comedies. “You two are gonna love Eleanor,” he vows with a smirk.

 *******

“Nicky working tonight?” Booker asks as Joe throws an eraser at the TV. (Nicky isn’t the only one who gets impassioned by what he watches.) Grumbling under his breath at the shit defense of the team he’s rooting for, Joe returns to his sketch of Nile and Booker. He’s carefully angled the sketchbook with his knees to his chest so Booker won’t see it, knowing what will happen if he does. 

“No just having a girl’s night with Andy and Quỳnh,” Joe mutters, frowning as he tries to get the right proportion of Booker’s shoulders at his current angle. 

“Mm.” Booker replies noncommittally, glancing down at where Topolina is looking at everyone curled on the couch with longing. Nicky has been firm that Topolina shouldn’t be allowed on the couch and it’s killing Joe not to just cave. “Still sickeningly in love?” 

Joe smiles to himself. “Last I checked.” He looks pointedly at where Nile is curled under Booker’s arm as she shades in her current sketch. “And you’re one to talk.” Booker grunts, keeping his eyes fixed on the game. “You think she’s gonna sleep tonight?” Joe asks with a nod towards Nile. 

Booker gives her a despairing look. “At the rate she’s going? Doubtful.” 

“ _She_ has a name,” Nile mutters as she adds details to the dress of one of the women. 

“She speaks!” Joe gasps, earning a flicked ear. 

“You can’t put a time limit on good art,” Nile defends. “If I need to stay up to capture my vision in the long hours of the night so be it.” Joe snorts. He forgets how dramatic Nile can get with her art.

“It’s okay, I love you even in zombie mode,” Booker soothes. Nile flashes him a smile and snuggles more firmly under his arm. Joe watches fondly as Booker softens further while he gazes down at her. To be frank, he never would’ve thought those two would work, Booker being so gruff and afraid to commit after Renée, Nile so full of energy and optimism. Not to mention Booker is the biggest introvert to ever introvert while Nile is more exuberant and sociable. (Though she can become a hermit especially when working on a particularly inspired art piece or jamming to her music, as today demonstrates.) 

But he supposes that’s why they work; Nile softens something in Booker and pushes him out of his comfort zone while Booker is a quiet and steady presence when Nile needs it. The fact that they’ve both experienced grief certainly helps too. That could’ve been an incredibly unhealthy basis to their relationship but instead it’s been the opposite. They support each other when one of them slips into that dark place, hold one another through their pain. And when they’re ready, they guide each other back into the light once more. “He’s giving us the look again,” Booker grumbles, eyeing Joe suspiciously. 

“If you actually minded you would confiscate that sketchbook ‘cause he’s probably drawing us,'' Nile mumbles. Joe winces. Can never keep something from a fellow artist. 

Booker’s eyes widen and his cheeks turn bright red around his beard which Joe will have to mercilessly tease him for later when he’s not fighting to keep his sketchbook away from Booker. “I can’t help it!” he yelps, leaping over the edge of the couch. “You two are adorable together!” 

“Don’t wake the kids,” Nile says vaguely without looking up from her art. 

“You are _no_ help,” Joe hisses as he’s promptly pinned by the much larger man. When he finally wrests the sketchbook from Joe’s hands Booker stares at the image of his profile for a long moment. Even though they were watching a game, Booker had spent an equal amount of time watching Nile with a soft smile on his face, so that’s what Joe chose to depict. 

“It’s- uh- good,” Booker says gruffly, helping Joe up and handing him back the sketchbook with a duck of his head. 

“Thanks,” Joe grins as he plops back onto the couch. Booker follows him and Nile immediately slips back into her previous position. Knowing that Booker always feels awkward when Joe or Nile draw him, Joe returns to safer ground. “So how is grading those research papers going?”

Booker tilts his head back and releases a despairing groan. “One day these kids will learn how to properly cite their sources. Maybe.”

*******

Nicky watches smugly as he works on a midnight snack while Andy and Quỳnh gape at the TV. “What the fuck!” Quỳnh shrieks, scrambling to start season 2. Nicky chuckles and carries over the Vietnamese dish he made. In those early cooking days Quỳnh and Nicky bonded in the kitchen as she taught him some of her favourite dishes from her home country. Meanwhile Andy and Nicky bonded over horrible action movies and competition shows. 

Andy eyes Nicky as he settles back down on the couch and places the gỏi cuốn on a side table. “So we’re Chidi, huh?” Nicky hums in confirmation, sipping on some wine and admiring his neon blue sparkling nails. Which is the only reason he wasn’t more prepared when a sly smile crosses Andy’s lips. “What’s that make Joe?” 

Nicky chokes on his sip, flushing. “Um-” he scrambles. “Janet?” 

Quỳnh nods contemplatively. “Super peppy, super helpful, and in love with a loveable dumbass. It tracks.”

Nicky snorts while Andy chortles. “Asshole.” 

“An accurate asshole,” Andy claims. 

Popping a roll in her mouth and handing one each to Andy and Nicky, Quỳnh snuggles into Nicky’s unoccupied side. “He’s definitely a keeper, huh?” 

Nicky smiles softly. “I didn’t think it was possible for me to hold so much love in my heart for one person, let alone three,” he murmurs. Nicky studies his hands for a long moment. “I never wanted kids. Didn’t want to fuck them up like my parents.” He releases a shaky sigh. “I’m so scared that I still will.” 

Two pairs of hands cover his own. “You are not them Nicky,” Quỳnh says firmly. He closes his eyes. That was the first thing Andy and Quỳnh gave to him: a nickname. They never use his full name; they saw who Nicolò was when he still bore just that name. For Joe it’s different of course; he doesn’t have the association of who Nicolò once was. “What if I become them?” he asks brokenly, voicing the fear that’s been haunting him since his past returned to the forefront of his mind. 

Andy grips Nicky’s chin so he’s facing her sharp green eyes. “That will never happen,” she says, voice fierce with conviction. “You’ve come too far, worked too hard and are far too good to _ever_ be like them.” Nicky closes his eyes as a tear slips down his cheek, as he latches onto Andy’s declaration with desperate yet slippery fingers. He wants so much to believe her. 

Quỳnh guides him down until his head rests on her shoulder. “You’re too full of love Nicky. You’re not the same person we met over a decade ago,” she soothes as she runs her freshly painted nails through his hair. “You are patient and caring and loving and I know you would sooner cut off your own hand than harm those two children.” 

Nicky takes a shaky breath, clutching tightly onto Quỳnh's jumper that she stole from Andy years ago. “I still feel that anger sometimes though,” he says, feeling panic claw at his throat. “And I lashed out at Joe when I first told him everything. What if I do the same to them one day?” 

Quỳnh and Andy are silent for a long moment, not rushing to reassure him which Nicky is grateful for. “We’re only human Nicky. I won’t lie to you and say you’ll never snap at them,” Andy murmurs eventually. “But I also know that if you ever do you would never say something that would be unforgivable.”

“You could never say or do anything that would cause lasting harm Nicky,” Quỳnh adds. As Nicky opens his mouth to remind her just how exactly they met Quỳnh puts a finger over his lips. “ _Now,_ ” she clarifies. 

“But that’s just our point,” Andy adds framing his face so he’ll look back at her. “You’ve worked too hard to ever be close to that boy we met all those years ago. You’re not that person, you shed it like dead skin.”

“And if you ever fear a relapse we’ll have some more trashy TV, ice cream, and pampering nights,” Quỳnh says with a grin.

Nicky closes his eyes, gratitude crashing over him at the reassuring words and promises. “I love you both,” he rasps. “So goddamn much.” 

He feels two soft lips brush against this temple. “Feeling’s mutual kid.” 

*******

When Joe sees Nicky the next morning as he stumbles out of bed, he grins. Basim is admiring his toes while Amani tilts Nicky’s hand to watch how his polish sparkles in the light. “Looks like someone got a makeover,” Joe hums, kissing Amani and Basim’s heads before pecking Nicky’s lips. 

“Nicky Mouse says that we can have a nail polish party too!” Amani says while Basim nods emphatically. 

“Sounds like a brilliant plan,” Joe grins. “How about you three stop at a store this afternoon to find some colours for all of us?” 

“I think you should get pink like Nicky Mouse,” Amani determines. 

“With sparkles!” Basim adds. 

Sipping the coffee Nicky has wordlessly handed him, Joe nods. “I leave it up to you my wonderful monsters.” Checking the time, Joe winces. He definitely snoozed the alarm more than he should’ve this morning and for once his human back up alarms didn’t make an appearance. “You’re the best babe,” Joe says fervently as Nicky hands him a bagel, a thermos, and the leftovers from tonight as if he’s reading his mind. 

“Don’t think I didn’t notice what was in my fridge this morning,” Nicky says mildly, the flash of his eyes promising retribution. 

“Oh is it _your_ fridge now?” Joe teases as he grabs his coat and bag.

“I will take custody of it if I ever find you cheating on me like that again!” he warns with a twitch of his lips. 

Chuckling, Joe wraps Basim and Amani in a hug before whispering in Nicky’s ear, “Don’t worry tesoro, you’re the only Italian I wanna eat.” Preening with pride at the way Nicky’s face has turned an adorable shade of red, Joe waves farewell and heads to work. 

When he gets there he finds an email from Amani and Basim’s teacher, asking to talk on the phone. Biting his lip, Joe shoots off some potential times before preparing for the day. It could be nothing. Maybe. 

That night the al-Kaysani household holds the promised nail polish party complete with dancing and music. While Nicky keeps his polish on since it’s so new, he helps to do everyone else’s nails, humming and swaying to the beat of the Princess and the Frog soundtrack as he does. Since Nicky explained his ambivalence with dancing, Joe has been gently easing him into feeling comfortable enough to let loose. It’s been slow going but the last thing Joe wants to do is trigger Nicky again. He smiles softly as Nicky works on the top coat of Amani’s bright yellow with silver glitter nails while Joe helps Basim with his purple and gold glitter ones. For Joe he was given neon pink with, of course, glitter as well to match Nicky’s toes. “All the teachers and my students are gonna be super jealous,” Joe comments as he admires his nails. 

“All our friends will be too!” Basim pipes up with a grin. Joe has a momentary flash of fear over how Basim’s nails will be received before breathing through it. Kids this generation, especially at Basim and Amani’s age, are far more tolerant than when Joe and Nicky were growing up. And Joe trusts their teachers to intervene if necessary. He never wants to limit his children, which is how one of Basim’s favourite non-Paw Patrol toys became a Minnie Mouse doll while one of Amani’s is a monster truck. Fuck gender stereotypes.

While Joe, Amani, and Basim’s nails dry Nicky finishes up a “proper Italian meal.” When Joe complained that he would have Italian for three meals in a row in that case Nicky shot him a dark glower. “Should’ve considered that before cheating on me then, no?” Joe couldn’t hide his amused grin. Yep. Taking in Italian last night was definitely worth it. 

Now that his brain is more awake than it was this morning, Joe can see that a weight seems to have been lifted off of Nicky’s shoulders too. The cloud that has been following him for the past several weeks since this whole business began has faded away and Joe couldn’t be more relieved. It’s been an intense few weeks and though nothing has been really resolved, hopefully Nicky will be able to move on now that he’s gotten some closure. 

With everyone’s nails dry enough to eat the lasagna, Basim and Amani chatter excitedly about their sleepover with Hakim this weekend. After a trial run with Hakim staying over at their apartment, Joe has finally caved and decided that Amani and Basim can stay at the al-Fassi's for a night. He’s not emotionally or mentally prepared and may be slightly freaking out. But Joe can’t deny his kids anything; if this is something they want then he’ll give it to them.

“Can you do me a favour tomorrow?” Joe asks later that night as he lays in Nicky’s lap and admires how their nails play in the light. 

“Hm?” Nicky hums, stroking fingers through Joe's hair lazily. 

“I’m gonna leave copies of two books and two lists of words for you. Can you have the kids read each book and then read the words?” Joe can sense Nicky’s confusion as he pauses his strokes but he doesn’t elaborate, unwilling to inadvertently influence what Nicky notices tomorrow. 

Thankfully, Nicky doesn’t ask for clarification and instead agrees and then suggests, “Chess? Then bed?” Joe smiles against the soft fabric of his sweatshirt before nodding. Maybe he’ll finally be able to beat Nicky without cheating. 

(He doesn’t.)

*******

“Good job Basim,” Nicky nods as the boy finishes his list of words. He’s a bit puzzled since the list was just a bunch of real and made up words that looked like utter nonsense. Not to mention the book was One Fish Two Fish typed up on printer paper despite the fact that they have a copy of the book buried somewhere. He sets his questions to the side for now though. 

When he hands Amani the packet containing Hop on Pop with an encouraging smile she bites her lip before grasping the pages tightly. “One fish two fish-” 

“No patatina, that was the book Basim just read,” Nicky says with a confused frown. Amani looks at him with wide eyes and stutters out, “Right. I knew that.” He watches as she stares at the page blankly before slowly sounding out a word. “H-hip on p-u-op,” she labors. 

“Hop, not hip,” he corrects gently. Nicky’s heart breaks as Amani’s lip wobbles. 

“I don’t wanna read!” she cries, throwing the packet at Nicky. “Reading is for dummies!” 

Nicky watches aghast as Amani storms out of the room while Basim now grows tearful. “Am I a dummy Nicky Mouse?” he whimpers.

“Of course not passerotto,” Nicky soothes, pulling Basim into his lap as his mind reels. “Amani is just having a rough moment.” 

Basim sniffs and cuddles closer into Nicky’s arms. “Amani doesn’t like to read, she just pretends,” he whispers. “I didn’t wanna say nothing ‘cause I didn’t want to get ‘Mani in trouble at school.” Nicky’s eyes widen at the implication. Fuck. He plays the numerous times he or Joe have tried coaxing the kids to read a bedtime story themselves with a fresh lense. Amani never wants to, much preferring to make up her own out loud and neither Nicky nor Joe ever pushed it because they don’t want a grumpy child so close to bedtime. Maybe they should have. Guilt curdles in his gut over not prioritising their reading more in the afternoons, but Nicky shoves it aside to cope with later. Right now there are two distraught children who need him. 

“That’s nice that you were looking out for your sister but it’s important for her to read so she can learn,” he says gently.

“I’m sorry Nicky!” Basim cries, tears soaking into Nicky’s shirt. 

“Oh no, it’s okay amore mio,” Nicky croons. “You were trying to look out for your sister and that is very admirable.” 

“What’s admable mean?” Basim mumbles as he nuzzles against Nicky’s neck. Nicky smiles softly at Basim’s incessant curiosity, even in distress. 

“It means that it’s something that people can look up to.” 

Nicky continues to stroke a hand through his curls until Basim calms at the assurance that he’s not in trouble. “Do you mind if I check on your sister?” he finally asks. Basim nods into Nicky’s neck. “Why don’t you cuddle up to Topolina and Cow while I talk to her, hm?” At the suggestion Basim squeezes Nicky before crawling over to where Topolina is gnawing on her broccoli squeaky toy while Cow watches with a swish of her tail. With Basim in good hands (or paws) Nicky kisses his head and slips into the twins’ room.

He releases a mournful sound at the sight that greets him: Amani’s tiny frame shaking as she lies face down on her bed while clutching Bear. “Oh my precious patatina,” Nicky sighs, shutting the door quietly and crouching down next to the bed. “Do you want a hug?” Without looking at Nicky Amani slides off her bed and Nicky hurries to catch her. “That’s alright Amani, I got you love,” he murmurs as she buries her face in his chest and cries. Nicky hums under his breath and rocks her slowly back and forth, ignoring the way that Bear is shoved into his face as he does. 

Eventually, Amani’s sobs fade to quiet sniffles. “Sorry for throwing the paper at you,” she mumbles into Nicky’s completely soaked shirt. 

“Oh patatina mio, I’m not mad,” Nicky murmurs, drawing away and lifting Amani’s chin so he can wipe away her tears. “I’m worried because I don’t know what’s got you so upset.” 

Amani burrows back into Nicky’s chest and he lets her, willing to give her the refuge to help her find the words. “You and Baba and Basi like to read but I _hate_ it,” she sniffs. 

Nicky contemplates for a moment how to respond before saying, “You seem to always like the bedtime stories we read together.” 

“That’s _different,”_ Amani insists. “I like stories _you_ read but why do _I_ have to read?” 

“It helps you grow big and strong and smart,” Nicky explains easily. 

“Then I’m gonna be dumb forever,” Amani sobs, and Nicky’s heart promptly breaks. Fuck. Why did he say that? Nicky hugs Amani in a more secure embrace and rocks her, singing all of her favourite songs but her cries won’t abate and Nicky can feel himself beginning to panic. He’s faced a number of tantrums with these two but nothing of this magnitude, nothing of this weight. 

It’s with some semblance of relief then when he eventually hears the apartment door close and muffled voices in the hall. “Oh habibti,” Joe murmurs as he creaks open the door a moment later. 

“Baba,” Amani sniffs, reaching up toward him. 

“C’mere love,” Joe says, dropping his bag and jacket and sweeping her into his arms. Nicky longs to linger and try to help but after a hesitation decides to leave father and daughter to spend some time together. Hoping Joe will have more luck than Nicky with comforting Amani, he slips out of the room and goes in search of Basim. 

“Is Amani okay?” Basim asks when Nicky walks back into the living room. Laying down on his stomach next to Basim so he can join in the lego building he’s in the midst of, Nicky kisses his head. 

“She will be.” Hopefully. 

Ten minutes later Basim and Nicky are puzzling over the directions to a lego spaceship they’re trying to build when Joe comes out carrying Amani. “We’re gonna move hair day up this week,” Joe announces, crouching down to give Nicky a belated “glad to be home” kiss. 

“Sounds like a lovely idea,” Nicky says with an encouraging smile. 

“Me and Nicky and Basi made stew,” Amani whispers into Joe's neck. 

“Can’t wait to try it!” Joe exclaims. Nicky’s heart warms as Basim tugs Joe’s trousers so he can reach for Amani. He can’t quite hear what both kids say to each other as they hug but whatever it is has Joe smiling softly. Once they pull apart Amani walks over to Nicky and wordlessly opens her arms, eyes wide and hopeful. 

Relieved that she isn’t upset that he couldn’t help, Nicky picks Amani up and hugs her closely. “How are you feeling my love?” 

“Sad,” Amani sniffs as she burrows into his neck. 

Humming, Nicky strokes through her braids. “It’s okay to be sad Amani. We will give you as many hugs as you need until you feel happy again, okay?” Amani nods, tucking her face into his neck closer, and Nicky _aches_ with his need to see her smile and laugh once more. 

Kissing her temple Nicky walks them to the kitchen while Joe retrieves some hair supplies. “Want to help me serve dinner patatina?” As Amani clambers down so she can carefully ladle stew into some bowls, Joe reappears with the materials he needs. In order to ensure the kids go to bed at a reasonable time however, Joe insists that he can wait to eat, so Nicky waits too.

Dinner is a more subdued affair than usual, though Nicky and Joe try to keep the conversation going. But it’s like Basim is feeding off of Amani’s energy, which isn’t too surprising. Eventually Joe is able to coax a smile out of both of them when he composes a silly limerick about Topolina and Cow. Fuck Nicky loves this man so much.

That night their bedtime routine lasts a little longer than typical. All four of them cuddle up together on the floor while Nicky and Joe take turns spinning more stories of the brave prince and princess rather than open up a book. And as Joe sketches some scenes for the kids while Nicky tells a particularly dramatic tale, Nicky grows more convinced that a graphic novel doesn’t need to be their only collaborative work. When Amani finally dozes off in Joe’s arms while Basim does the same in Nicky’s, both men hold the twins for a suspended moment before gently tucking them in. Once they creep out of the room and heat up their meals they sit across from each other in solemn silence. “I emailed their teacher over concerns of Amani’s spelling ability,” Joe says quietly. “She wants to speak to me on the phone.” 

“That isn’t necessarily a bad sign,” Nicky tries, but his words sound weak even in his ears. 

Joe shoots him a strained smile. “I’m guessing the meltdown was over her reading?” Nicky nods. Joe taps his spoon against his bowl. “The good news is even if it is something serious, the earlier we intervene the better. When I get kids who are just getting tested it’s tragic 'cause the education system’s failed them at that point. You need to catch learning disabilities early in order to remediate,” he explains. Nicky simply nods again as he tries to follow what Joe is saying. He sometimes forgets that Joe’s dual certified in special education with the way he loves to talk literature. 

“Is that why a bunch of reading intervention textbooks have made a sudden appearance in our bedroom?” Nicky asks with a raised brow. 

Joe shrugs sheepishly. “Even if she doesn’t have a learning disability some extra remediation wouldn’t hurt.” Nicky shoots Joe a lopsided smile. “What?” he asks. 

“You’re just a super dad,” Nicky says with a twirl of his spoon, earning a chuckle from Joe. 

They eat in silence for another moment before Joe says, “Thanks for taking care of her before I arrived.”

“I don’t know if you should thank me given the state you found her in,” Nicky grimaces. 

But Joe reaches out a hand to squeeze Nicky’s, gazing at him with warm tender eyes. “You held her while she cried. Sometimes that’s all we can do.” 

Nicky stares at their interlocked hands. “Oh,” he says quietly. 

Joe draws up their hands so he can kiss Nicky’s. “I love you Nico.” 

Will his heart always flutter at those words? “I love you too Joe,” Nicky replies with a soft smile. 

The rest of dinner passes in contented silence, neither of them needing to speak to savour the love that pulses between them like the steady beat of a heart. 

*******

_Mr. al-Kaysani?_

“Yes, is this Mrs. Watts?”

 _Please, call me Helen,_ the friendly voice responds. 

Booker watches with a raised brow as Joe paces in the history teacher’s classroom, biting his nails. “So you said you wanted to talk. About my email?” Joe says with a dry swallow.

_Yes._ Shuffled paper sounds on the other end before Helen says, _I’m glad you reached out with your concerns because Amani has been on our radar for some time. We were waiting to contact you once we collected enough data with the interventions we’ve put in place but if we don’t see any improvement by mid-December we’re going to move forward with some testing._

Joe pauses his pacing to lean his forehead against the wall and take a shaky breath as he tries to center himself. “Okay. Good. I’m glad you’ve been keeping a close eye on her. I just feel horrid that I only noticed this now.”

 _Even if you’re a teacher yourself Mr. al-Kaysani we don’t always think to look for warning signs in our own children, especially in ones as young as Basim and Amani,_ Helen says gently. Joe grits his teeth and nods, knowing she’s right even if his heart wants to disagree. Helen’s voice grows warm. _From the way those two talk about you they’re your biggest fans. And what’s important is that we’re all on the same page now. I’ll keep you updated on her progress and if it looks like we need to go forward with testing, we’ll send over the paperwork, okay?_

Joe blows out a breath. “Yeah, okay Mrs. Watts. Uh-Helen.” He smiles at the woman’s laugh. 

_Nice to speak to you Mr. al-Kaysani. Have a lovely weekend._

“You too.” 

When Joe hangs up with a sigh he turns to where Booker is waiting, expression twisted with concern. “Is everything alright?” 

Joe scrubs his face. “Hopefully? Amani is further behind than she should be. School's conducting some interventions but they might need to move to testing soon.” 

Booker studies Joe for a long moment. “How're you holding up?” 

Joe sags into a chair. “They’ve already had such a horrible and difficult childhood Book. I don’t want it to get worse.” 

Joe yelps as a pen hits him in the forehead. When he looks up to glare at Booker he finds the other teacher glaring right back. “Their childhood has not been horrible. They’ve faced tragedy yes but no child raised by you has a tough childhood. And even if Amani has a learning disability you of all people should know that that isn’t a fucking prison sentence with the proper supports.”

Joe slumps further in the chair. “I know,” he mumbles. “I just feel like I dropped the ball.” 

Booker rounds his desk so he can crouch in front of Joe. “Listen asshole,” he says firmly, and Joe reflexively looks at him, memories of that tone rippling through their shared history. “As much as you try to be superdad, there’s only so much you can do. Sorry to say it but you’re an imperfect human like the rest of us and why are you smiling at me like that?” Joe bites his lip at the put out expression on Booker's face. 

“Nicky called me superdad too,” Joe says with a dreamy smile, chuckling as Booker groans exaggeratedly. 

“You two are disgusting.”

“You have _no_ leg to stand on Mr. Sappy Face,” Joe defends, standing and knocking shoulders with Booker. 

The evil glint in Booker’s eye bodes ill. “So you ready for the kids to have their sleepover this weekend?” Booker remarks casually, causing Joe to moan and rest his head on his shoulder. 

“Low blow le Livre. Low blow.” 

“Aww chin up buddy. I’m sure Nicky can keep you distracted,” Booker teases, laughing as Joe shoves him away. 

“Asshole,” Joe mutters, feeling his cheek heat. 

Booker presses a hand to his heart. “You hurt me Yusuf. You hurt me real deep.” 

“I think you’ll live,” Joe says wryly, slinging his bag over his shoulders before strolling out the door. “Have fun with the rest of those research papers!” he calls out behind him, grinning at the thump that indicates a teacher has just dropped their head on a pile of papers in despair. 

*******

Nicky closes the door after a long shift and is toeing off his shoes when he stops to prop his hands on his hips. 

“Um. This isn’t what it looks like?”

“Really?” Nicky says dryly, locking the door and hanging his coat and keys on the hook. “Because it looks like Topolina is on the couch.” 

Joe turns to where his hand is still placed on the dog’s head while Topolina rests on Joe’s knee. “Wha-Topolina,” Joe gasps as if he’s only _just_ noticing her. “What are you doing up here!” 

Nicky rolls his eyes. “Honestly I’m shocked it’s taken you this long to cave,” he quips, settling on the couch beside Joe and glaring half-heartedly at Topolina who is looking at him with a guilty expression. “If her training starts slipping we’ll need to reevaluate,” is what Nicky ultimately determines. 

Joe perks up and returns to petting Topolina. “With you as a trainer I doubt she’ll slip,” he says happily. Nicky smiles. Though Joe has tried to train Topolina, he takes one look at her puppy eyes and immediately caves. Keeping her off the couch was one of the few lines Joe was able to hold. For a month. His ridiculous man. 

As he joins in with the petting because Nicky is weak, sue him, he looks curiously at what Joe is working on. “Thought I would work on some of the edits Lisa sent over while I waited for you to come home,” Joe explains as he sketches out an action scene Nicky now recognises from their book. Their draft was well-received and the editor seems to think they have a strong chance of publishing with a few tweaks. 

“You know you don’t have to stay up for me tesoro,” Nicky says as he admires the delicate strokes of Joe’s hand while he manages to simultaneously scratch behind Topolina’s ears. 

Joe shrugs. “It’s Friday and I’d much rather go to bed with you in my arms when I have the opportunity.” Oh this precious man. 

“Let’s do it then,” Nicky decides, standing with a stretch. As they gravitate to their room though they hear a whine at their heels. Turning, Nicky finds Topolina standing right behind them, wagging her tail hopefully. Joe looks at Nicky with a beseeching gaze, his eyes practically identical to Topolina’s. Nicky opens his mouth to protest, to explain why from a training standpoint it’s not a good plan, before clamping his mouth shut. “Fine, she can sleep with us,” he sighs. And the way that Joe beams and Topolina wiggles happily on the bed a few moments later makes the inevitable retraining absolutely worth it. 

*******

“Make sure they don’t lose track of Rabbit and Bear and you have my phone number so if at ANY time they need me or want me for any reason please video call me and if they get scared or homesick I’ll be right over and-” Nicky’s hand on Joe’s arm stops his frantic rambling in his tracks. 

“You already gave them a comprehensive list of directions, amore mio,” Nicky says gently. “They know all this.” Watching Joe frantically draw up the list for the al-Fassis reminded him of the multi-page instructions Joe gave Nicky when he first hired him. Nicky still has it tucked away as a fond memory of one of the first things that endeared him to this ridiculous man.

Zahra and Ahmed both flash Nicky a grateful smile. “We promise we’ll follow all of these directions, okay Yusuf?” Zahra says brandishing the list. 

Joe slumps. “Yeah okay I know I-” he trails off as he watches Amani, Basim, and Hakim organise their blankets and pillows in preparation for their blanket fort. He sighs. “Just...please don’t hesitate to call me?” he pleads with wide eyes.

“We promise,” Ahmed says, clapping Joe on the shoulder. 

Amani and Basim hardly register Joe and Nicky’s goodbye, and Nicky can tell how hard that is for Joe. “You know it’s that they’re just excited hayati,” Nicky soothes, and the name he’s taken to using brings a weak smile to Joe’s face. 

“They’re just growing up too fast.”

Nicky presses a kiss to his forehead. “I know Joe, I know.” 

Joe is vibrating with nervous energy by the time they get home and is checking his phone literally every second as he half-heartedly watches their latest binge show. Finally, Nicky decides he needs to intervene. Gently pulling the phone from Joe’s grasp and making sure the volume for alerts is all the way up, Nicky plops himself in Joe’s lap. “Um. Hi?” Joe says before shifting his eyes to where Nicky set aside his phone. 

Gripping his chin firmly so their eyes meet, Nicky sends Joe a sultry look he knows he’s helpless to resist. “We are home alone, the children are in good hands, and if anything goes wrong your phone will be right beside you. I’m going to ravish you now so you forget your own name and fucking relax. Okay?” 

Joe stares at him wide-eyed and licks his lips. “Okay,” he says faintly. 

A glorious hour later where Joe and Nicky are able to take advantage of an empty apartment without a potential interruption by two tiny humans, Nicky cajoles Joe into taking a shower. As they both step into it, Nicky can’t stop the illicit thrill that shudders down his spine. It seems like such a juvenile thing to do, sharing a shower, but he’s never done it before, let alone with this man whom he loves. 

As Nicky hums with contentment at the warm water peppering his skin, Joe waggles his brows with a grin. “We are not having sex in the shower Joe,” Nicky says in a firm tone, recognising that particularly spark in his love's eye. “It is far too precarious and I will not be explaining to Amani and Basim how I earned a black eye.” 

In response Joe slowly goes to knees while maintaining full eye contact and Nicky can feel his resolve weakening. At that moment, Joe’s phone (which he brought into the bathroom of course) begins to ring. Nicky watches with bemusement as Joe scrambles out of the shower, grabs his phone, and skids out of the bathroom butt naked. Nicky follows at a more sedate pace and actually puts on a goddamned towel like a civilised person. By the time he follows the trail of water to their bedroom, Joe is wearing his shirt and briefs on backwards and his hair is in absolute disarray. Once Nicky slips on a shirt and sweats he discreetly takes a photo of Joe for future blackmail.

“I miss you too habibi,” Joe says softly in response to Basim’s mumbled comment. 

Settling on the bed next to Joe, Nicky waves to where Amani and Basim are curled up next to each other. “Are you having fun cuccioli mio?” Nicky asks. Amani clutches Bear close to her chest and nods silently. “Did you watch Despicable Me?” Both children nod. “Did you like it?” Another nod. 

“I like the unicorn,” Basim says quietly. 

“I like the minions,” Amani adds. 

“Now that you've both seen it you’ll have to show it to me and Nicky,” Joe says with an encouraging smile, water dripping on his phone from his soaked hair. 

“K,” Basim says shyly. 

“Do you want to stay there or would you like me and Nicky to pick you up?” Joe asks and by his stiff posture Nicky can tell how hard he’s trying to restrain himself from marching over there right now. 

Amani and Basim trade glances. “Mr and Mrs. al-Fassi said we can have popcorn and watch Paw Patrol before we go to bed.”

Joe swallows. “And. You would like to do that?” Another glance and another nod. 

Nicky takes Joe’s hand who squeezes him tightly. “Okay my little monsters,” Joe finally says with a strained smile. “Just know that even if it’s the middle of the night I’ll drive over and pick you up, k?” Amani and Basim nod and press closer to the screen until Nicky and Joe can only see their noses. “I love you my little monsters,” Joe whispers. “To all the stars and back.” 

“Love you Baba. Love you Nicky Mouse.” 

“Love you too cuccioli.”

Before they sign off both twins hesitate. “Can we say love you to Cow and Topolina?” Amani asks. 

Nicky’s heart flutters with affection. “Of course habibti,” Joe says, sagging with relief that he doesn’t have to say goodbye to them yet. When Joe and Nicky track both animals down, Cow is sprawled on Topolina’s back while Topolina dozes and cuddles one of the paw patrol plushies that she must’ve stolen from the twins’ room earlier. “Looks like someone else is missing you,” Joe grins as he turns the camera to show what Topolina has. 

“Topo!” Amani giggles. 

“She should keep it. For when we’re at school and stuff so she doesn’t miss us,” Basim says solemnly. 

“That’s very kind of you passerotto,” Nicky says with a soft smile. After a few more minutes where Basim and Amani reassure themselves with the sight of Joe and Nicky, Joe reiterates that he’ll be there the moment they call before saying goodbye. Once they hang up Joe stares at his phone until the screen turns black before turning to press his head against Nicky’s shoulder. 

Nicky hums, tangling his fingers in Joe’s curls. “What do you say to a bath?” 

“Will we both fit?” Joe says skeptically. 

“Only one way to find out,” Nicky grins. 

The answer is yes, though barely. But with Joe practically purring in his arms as Nicky rubs in Joe’s fourth hair product for his curls, neither of them mind. “You know I would be able to pamper you too if you would stop insisting on using Head and Shoulders,” Joe mumbles sleepily as he follows Nicky’s guidance and bows his head with a sigh. 

“I will not be shamed for my product choices by a man who has three kinds of beard oil,” Nicky declares, carefully coating each curl. 

“But you love my beard,” Joe croons with a mischievous grin as he rubs his cheek against Nicky’s. 

“Not as much as I love you,” Nicky finds himself saying, and his lips curve into a soft smile at the way Joe melts at his words. Returning to his pampering of the man who holds his heart Nicky murmurs, “Having you in my arms is one of my favourite things. And being held by you is one of my others.” 

He never ceases to be delighted at the way Nicky can steal words from the ordinarily verbose man. Nicky watches fondly as Joe ducks his head before turning in the tub so he can tuck himself under Nicky’s chin and wrap his arms around him. “I love you Nicky,” he sighs. “Thank you for taking care of me.” 

“There’s no reason to thank me for doing something that’s as easy as breathing,” Nicky responds simply. 

Joe hugs him tighter. “I adore you Nicolò di Genova,” he declares fervently. He rises just enough so Nicky can see the passion burning in Joe’s eyes. “I love you so much, no words and no art can suffice.” 

“I don’t need words and art to know Yusuf,” Nicky says gently, stroking a hand through the curls he should really finish tending to. “I see it in your eyes and I feel it in your touch every day.” Joe tilts forward and as always Nicky meets him halfway for a soft kiss so they can both pour their love for each other with the brush of lips and breathy sighs. 

They draw away only far enough to press their foreheads together. “This was a good idea,” Joe determines. 

“What can I say, I have one every once in awhile.” 

Humming as Nicky guides him to turn back around so he can finish tending to his hair Joe murmurs, “That’s true. But you know what is one of your lesser ideas?” Nicky’s lips curve into a smile as he waits for the answer. “Using Head and Shoulders.” 

Joe yelps as Nicky splashes him in retaliation and Joe responds in kind before it somehow devolves into a tickle fight. When they lay gasping in each other’s arms a few minutes later with half of the bath water on the floor Joe mumbles, “Worth it.” 

Nicky snorts and kisses Joe’s mussed hair that he’ll definitely need to redo. “Agreed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it’s actually a common thing for kids with dyslexia to have strong oral language skills and many kids can become master pretenders at reading by using context and memorizing words. That’s why assessments with words in isolation, especially nonsense words, are so important because a kid might be able to “read” “The dog walked in the park” but then if you give them the word “walked” by itself or a nonsense word like "gub" they may have no idea how to decode that. [Here's a useful website if you're curious to learn more about dyslexia](https://dyslexiaida.org/) (Including a self-assessment)
> 
> Aaaand now I’ll remove my special educator hat since none of you signed up to be lectured today haha 
> 
> No scratch that. So Booker’s line about Amani having a potential learning disability isn’t necessarily a prison sentence is based off of the popular claim that prisons in the US use 3rd grade reading scores to predict how many prison beds they’ll need in the next decade. (But the education and criminal (in)justice systems are DEFINITELY not broken! Ha. Ha.) While this claim isn’t actually true, it’s based on truth because without the proper intervention students who struggle with reading are more likely to drop out and guess what they may turn to next?[Here's a short article if you're curious to learn more ](https://readingpartners.org/blog/do-prisons-use-third-grade-reading-scores-to-predict-the-number-of-prison-beds-theyll-need/)
> 
> OKAY ONE MORE THING. In the special ed world there's a term called significant disproportionality which refers to the common problem of over-identifying students of color in special education, placing them in a more restrictive environment, and/or disciplining them at a higher frequency than their white peers. I just want to be transparent with this since Amani is a student of color and this is a huge problem. HOWEVER her school and teachers are trained in culturally responsive teaching, trauma sensitive classrooms, and restorative practices so this isn't as much of concern in this particular case. [Further reading on this issue if you're curious. ](https://www.ncld.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/10/2020-NCLD-Disproportionality_Trends-and-Actions-for-Impact_FINAL-1.pdf)
> 
> Okay NOW I’m done lecturing you. Sorry for the tangent...Thanks for reading as always! 
> 
> Mon bonheur: French term of endearment meaning my happiness. (apparently parents may call their kids Mon petit monstre which means “My little monster” which I didn’t know was a thing when I gave Joe that nickname for the kids but I find this hilarious)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Games are played, gifts are given, and Joe may or not be fucked

**Fawzia** _GUESS WHO’S OFFICIALLY DONE WITH HER SERVICE MOTHERFUCKER???_

 **Me** _WOOT WOOT WOOT_

 **Me** _We gotta set up a video call now that you’ll have consistent service again!!!_

 **Fawzia** _No need! Still finishing things up over here and then need to find a place and figure out what the fuck I’m gonna do next. I’ll tag onto mama and baba’s flight to you so I can see you in person. Can’t wait to catch up and hear about all I’ve missed while I was gone! Ttys little bro!_

“Oh fuck my sister’s gonna kill me,” Joe says faintly, staring at his phone.

“Hm?” Nicky says distractedly as he plays tug-o-war with Topolina. 

Joe swallows. “I may not have told her about you?” He stands up and begins pacing. “She didn’t always have service where she’s based and when we did talk I felt like it was so…inconsequential to talk about a man I was falling in love with when she was out there saving lives.” He runs his fingers through his hair, clearly distressed. “And now she’s tagging along with my mum and dad for their visit and _fuck_ she’s gonna keep me in a headlock for an eternity.” He turns wild eyes at Nicky. “You’ll protect me, right Nico?” 

Oh his ridiculous man. Nicky raises both hands with a fond smile. “Nope, I'm staying clear out of sibling squabble.” 

Joe drags his feet over to Nicky with a groan and falls to his knees so he can lay his head in Nicky’s lap. “Nicky you don’t understand she’s gonna _kill_ me,” Joe whines. 

“And it sounds like you may deserve it,” Nicky says serenely as he strokes fingers through Joe’s hair. Joe has gushed at length about his older sister who has been working at Doctors Without Borders for the past few years and from what he’s heard of her, Fawzia will _not_ appreciate being kept in the dark regarding her little brother’s love life. Though the prospect of facing all three other al-Kaysanis in person at once is giving Nicky slight heart palpitations. And by slight he means that Nicky may be close to passing out. 

Joe must sense his change of demeanor because he lifts his head and wraps his arms around Nicky’s neck. “Maybe we should come up with a signal for when one of us needs saving,” he mumbles. “Like…” 

“Shiitake mushrooms?” Nicky suggests innocently. 

He can’t help his grin as Joe shoots him a half-hearted glare. “That...might actually be a decent idea,” Joe admits begrudgingly. 

“In the meantime let’s see if we can get your mind off of your impending doom,” Nicky says as he reaches for one of his Italian books they’ve been reading from to help rebuild Joe’s acquisition of the language. This should keep them both suitably distracted.

*******

“BABA COME HERE COME HERE YOU GOTTA WATCH THIS!” Joe flails at the hurricane welcome he receives as he’s attacked by two shouting children while one foot is still out the door. 

“Give him some room cuccioli mio,” Nicky laughs, following them at a more sedate pace and kissing Joe’s lips. 

“What urgent thing must I watch?” Joe asks as he unwraps his scarf around his neck and toes off his shoes.

“MOTO PUPS!” is the shouted response. Joe shoots an inquiring glance at Nicky. 

“Paw Patrol has motorcycles now,” Nicky informs him wryly.

“AND A CAT!” Amani adds, lifting Cow up as some kind of demonstration perhaps? 

“Ah I see,” Joe says, wracking his brain over previous Paw Patrol episodes. “I thought they already had motorcycles though?” 

“Of course not Baba,” Basim replies with a disappointed shake of his head. 

“They’ve had boats and planes and cars but never _motorcycles,"_ Amani says with a certain gleam in her eyes that Joe dearly hopes doesn’t indicate what her preferred vehicle may be when she’s grown. He hasn’t had the fortitude to let them ride _bikes_ yet let alone a fucking _motorcycle._

“Ah, yes, my mistake,” Joe says with a grave nod. By Nicky’s expression Joe may not have been the only one in this room to forget that. 

“Come _on_ we gotta show you!!” Amani says, dragging Joe towards the couch. Joe doesn’t let the kids eat while watching TV frequently but he can tell he’s not winning this one so he allows himself to be directed by his exuberant children. While slices of homemade pizza (because Nicky is a literal Italian angel) are passed around, Joe changes into pajamas and grabs a blanket from the bedroom since their crocheted blanket has been irrevocably claimed by Topolina. 

Speaking of...when Joe returns to the living room Topolina is resting in between Amani and Basim leaving no room for Joe and Nicky to sit on the couch. Nicky is curled in one of the chairs with a raised eyebrow that speaks volumes but Joe sticks his tongue out like the mature adult he is. Whatever, still worth it. Letting everyone including Cow be on the couch except for Topolina just wasn’t fair, okay? Lifting his chin, Joe plops down in front of Nicky and leans against his legs, grinning when familiar fingers mindlessly begin to stroke through his hair. Besides, eating on the floor can have its perks. 

*******

“I swear if you keep trying to make your own birthday dinner your kitchen privileges will be revoked,” Joe growls as he shoves Nicky out of the kitchen for the fifth time. 

Stumbling into the living room Nicky protests, “I was just checking on the chicken!”

“Sure babe,” Joe says with a roll of his eyes. “And you needed to put an apron on for that because...?” He grimaces. Yeah, Nicky doesn’t have a response for that. 

”Come on Nicky Mouse we can play the rhyming game!” Basim urges as he tugs Nicky’s hand. Nicky nods with a smile even as Amani looks slightly glum. He and Joe have been sneakily incorporating some interventions ever since the reading experiment gone wrong, but Amani is smart and she can see right through them sometimes. They’ve done their best to make the games fun though and thankfully Basim is a willing participant along for the ride. 

Doing some phoneme awareness practice through rhyming has been a simple thing they do while waiting for dinner now. The game is fairly simple, they need to just come up with as many rhymes in a row as possible to start. That was one of the things that Joe has been chastising himself for. Even though being able to rhyme and catch rhyming patterns is a huge early literacy skill, they hadn’t noticed that Amani wasn’t always as into nursery rhymes as Basim. 

“Hmm,” Nicky hums as he sits down and lifts Amani in his lap. “Let’s start with...low.” 

He turns to Basim expectedly as the boy picks up some blocks to stack. “Go!” he says. 

Amani looks down with a bite of her lip as Nicky waits. After a moment Nicky wordlessly lifts up one of Amani’s feet and begins to tickle her sole. “No!” she giggles, trying to squirm away. 

“And toe!” Basim pipes up, pointing at Amani’s wiggling toes. 

“Blow,” Nicky adds, blowing a raspberry on Amani’s stomach as she shrieks with delight.

“Wait we skipped Baba’s turn!” Basim protests.

“Hmm let’s do round two since I wasn’t keeping up,” Joe comments as he lowers the burner to simmer. “What word do I get if I make that /b/ in blow into a /f/?”

Basim mouths the sounds before saying, “Flow?” 

“Good job Basi,” Joe nods, walking over and pulling his son in his lap. “What if I change the /w/ to a /p/ Nicky?” 

Nicky tilts his head. “Let’s see,” he hums before sounding out each phoneme like Joe has been teaching him. “The /w/ seems to be the last sound so if I change it I think I get flop?” 

“Good job Nico,” Joe says with a grin. “What if I want to change that /f/ in flop to a /p/ Amani?” 

Amani follows what Nicky had just done, whispering each sound before saying, “Plop?” 

“Okay!” Nicky says, following her direction and plopping them both backwards to a chorus of giggles. 

“You’re so silly Nicky Mouse!” Amani says, wrapping her arms around Nicky’s neck. 

“What?!” Nicky gasps before lifting his head. “Basim am I silly? I don’t think so I think I’m a very serious mouse,” he declares with a solemn nod. 

“Yeah Nicky Mouse is serious,” Basim giggles as he climbs onto Joe’s back making Joe lose his balance from where he was lounging. As he rights himself Joe reaches to tickle Basim’s dangling foot, causing his son to shriek with delight and flail. This has the unfortunate side effect of inspiring Amani to join in on the tickling with Nicky and it’s to a massive tickle fight that Booker and Nile enter the apartment soon after. 

“Retreat Nile! The children have finally taken over!” Booker calls out. 

“Save us!” Joe calls as he starfishes across the living room and surrenders to the wiggling fingers of his son. While Booker lets himself be dragged into the fray, Nile places down two wrapped boxes. Nicky bites his lip as he spots them. He distinctly said that he didn’t need gifts and doesn’t know how to feel with the evidence that his comment was blatantly ignored. 

With Joe distracted by Topolina investigating why he’s being smothered by one of her puppies, Nicky manages to sneak back into the kitchen as the timer goes off. “Are you allowed in here?” Nile asks while she follows him with a raised brow. 

“Just trying to help,” Nicky mumbles, lifting the pot cover and closing his eyes. Damn that smells good. 

“I see you didn’t manage to keep him out of the kitchen, huh?” Andy asks. Nicky looks up, caught like a deer in the headlights as Andy and Quỳnh grin in the doorway and stomp the snow off their boots. 

“Nickyyyy,” Joe growls, setting dog and child aside and stalking into the kitchen. 

“Just didn’t want your wonderful meal to burn,” Nicky squeaks. 

Joe huffs out an exasperated breath, lips twitching with amusement. “Incorrigible.” 

“Don’t worry Joe, we’re veterans at keeping Nicky out of the kitchen,” Quỳnh grins as Andy prowls close to them with an intent glint in her eye. 

“You know what you seem to have it handled I’m gonna just check on Cow while Joe finishes up,” Nicky rambles as he backs away. 

Dinner is delicious of course, a lovely Mediterranean-inspired chicken and orzo dish. Joe shoots him a smug look as Nicky starts to gobble it down. “It’s not that I think you’re a bad chef Joe, I’m just not used to being banned from my own kitchen,” Nicky says between mouthfuls. 

“Do you hear this? _His,_ ” Joe scoffs, pressing a kiss to Nicky’s cheek. Nicky rests his head on Joe’s shoulder in response. He warned Joe that he’s not the best at celebrating his own birthday, often growing slightly abrasive, and he can’t help but wonder if Joe is regretting throwing this party. Nicky doesn’t mean to come off like a prick, he just has never been good at letting people do things for him. Andy and Quỳnh have had to literally sit on him to keep Nicky from going to work when he’s been sick before. (Come to think of it, he had _no_ leg to stand on when Joe was sick last April.) As Joe throws an arm around Nicky’s shoulder Nicky lifts Joe’s hand to kiss his knuckles in silent apology and thanks.

“Are you two wearing matching nail polish?” Booker asks with a grin from where he’s leaning back against Nile’s legs. Nicky looks down at his nails which have pink flowers on a blue background just like Joe’s does. (Basim and Amani’s have purple and yellow stars.)

“We’re going through a nail polish phase,” he mutters. 

“I happen to think we all look rather lovely,” Joe declares with a grin and a wink. Nicky feels himself blush and ducks his head with a soft smile. This was something he could never imagine himself doing as a kid that he rather enjoys as an adult. Seeing the joy in Basim and Amani's faces while they get their nails painted is an additional benefit. Having Amani and Basim attempt to do Joe’s and Nicky’s nails however is a bit more of a detriment. Still worth it to see the smiles on their faces though. 

God he’s as bad as Joe, isn’t he? 

“We should play goldfish for your birthday Nicky Mouse,” Amani says in between bites as Nile works on her hair. Nicky huffs out a breath of laughter at the name. He was slightly confused the first time the kids wanted to play “goldfish,” especially once they walked him through the rules and Nicky realized it was literally the card game go fish. Joe had to explain that although he has told them what the game is actually called, both kids love goldfish snacks so much they decided to keep the name change regardless. It was also decided that the snacking of goldfish should be a required element of the game. 

So once the dishes are cleared, including the cake that is finally edible after much practice, Joe pulls out a deck of cards while Nicky grabs a box of goldfish and pours them into a bowl for everyone to snack on. That’s when things got serious. 

Nicky studies his cards before turning to Booker. “Do you have any 5s?” 

“Lucky guess,” Booker grumbles as he hands two cards over. Nile chuckles, choosing to sit out the game so she can continue to work on Amani’s hair to the girl’s glee.

Nicky grins and slides the cards next to the 5 he already had in his hand. “Do you have any princesses?” he asks Basim. (With all the stories of the prince and princess, it was also decided that the king and queen cards should be renamed appropriately.) 

“Goldfish,” Basim says happily. Nicky nods with a soft smile and obeys the command, picking up a card and then a handful of goldfish from the bowl beside the deck. 

The game continues rather tamely (especially given this particular group) when Andy leans towards Basim and whispers in his ear. Basim furrows his brow at Quỳnh and says, “Do you have any jumping jacks?” (Another required name change ever since Joe took it upon himself to start working out and the kids decided to join in. Said working out, which often doesn't involve a shirt, has required a whole new level of willpower on Nicky’s part.) 

“You’re lucky we’re married darling,” Quỳnh remarks mildly as she hands over three Jacks to the delight of Basim. 

Andy just leans back with a grin. “Dunno what you’re trying to imply dear.” 

Nicky rolls his eyes. Andy’s as bad at cheating at cards as Joe is at chess. And Nicky is far too good at enabling both of them. 

Booker is the ultimate winner even with Andy’s cheating however. And though the winner usually gets to eat the rest of the goldfish in the bowl, he decides to split his winnings with the rest of the group to Basim and Amani’s joy. 

Once the game is cleared away, Amani and Basim jump up and hurry into their room. Nicky watches with amusement as they walk back at a snail’s pace carrying two terribly wrapped gifts. “You gotta be super duper careful okay Nicky Mouse?” Amani says as they both place their gifts down with their tongues sticking out. 

“I promise I will,” Nicky vows with a solemn nod. He struggles momentarily with the vast amount of tape littering both gifts but ultimately manages to peel off the paper to reveal two pieces of pottery. 

“Baba brought us to Plaster Fun Time and we made them for you Nicky Mouse!” Amani rushes out. 

“We didn’t _make_ them we _painted_ them,” Basim says with a roll of his eyes and _fuck_ he’s figured out how to do that too?? Shaking away the feeling of foreboding in his stomach at the fact that both children can properly roll their eyes now, Nicky looks down at the two pieces of art. Basim painted a heart with a purple background and red, pink, green, and blue stripes and polka dots. “Because I love you Nicky Mouse,” Basim says with a shy smile, compelling Nicky to draw him into a tight hug. 

“I love you too passerotto,” he murmurs in his ear. 

Meanwhile Amani gifted Nicky a lion that has a blue head, multi-coloured legs, and a red torso. “‘Cause lions are COOL and you’re cool too!” Amani pipes up. 

Heart warming at how endearingly sweet that is, Nicky hugs Amani and kisses her cheek. “Thank you patatina mio.” Next both children hand Nicky their cards, and though both are incredibly sweet and thoughtful, the difference in writing ability is as blatant as Joe mentioned. With it growing closer to mid-December, Nicky can’t help but wonder what their teacher will say about Amani’s progress. Shaking off his brewing anxiety, Nicky draws Amani and Basim into a group hug. “I’m the luckiest mouse in the world to have such thoughtful cuccioli,” he declares, kissing both children’s heads. 

As Basim cuddles beside him while Amani returns to her position in front of Nile so her hair can be finished, Booker and Nile swap a look that has Nicky immediately suspicious. “Nile and my gifts should go next,” Booker states as he shoves two small packages at him. 

Nicky eyes the couple distrustfully before opening his gifts. When they’re revealed he can only stare at them hopelessly. “I hate you both. So much.”

“That’s not nice Nicky Mouse,” Amani comments with a frown while Basim sounds out what’s written on the presents. 

Nicky glares at Booker and Nile who are wearing matching shit-eating grins. “It’s fine when you’re talking to two horrible people,” he deadpans. 

“No ‘cause Baba always says that even if you don’t like someone you gotta still respect them, Nicky Mouse,” Basim says firmly. 

“And they got you presents so you should say thank you,” Amani adds. 

Nicky softens at Basim and Amani’s beseeching gazes, ignoring the way that Booker and Nile are quietly snickering. “You are both right,” he sighs, kissing both of their heads. “Forgive me.” Turning a strained smile to his asshole friends Nicky grits out, “Thank you for your thoughtful gifts.” 

“Aren’t you gonna put your new shirt on Nicky?” Booker asks with a far too innocent expression. 

“I’ll wash your mug and pour some of your drink into it,” Nile offers magnanimously. And that is how Nicky finds himself five minutes later wearing a shirt that says, “Legalize marinara” while clutching a mug that says, “I speak Italian” with a hand gesture on it that he’s...definitely done multiple times in Nile’s presence. So he deserves that one. 

Fortunately he’s distracted from his mortification by the beautiful calligraphy supplies Andy and Quỳnh got him. _”Look at these pens,”_ he breathes, staring at them with stars in his eyes. 

“What do I have to do to get him to look at me like that?” Joe asks, sighing forlornly. But Nicky ignores his love’s dramatics in favour of testing out his new pens and discovering _they’re as smooth as they look._

“So...do we leave him alone with them or…?” 

“It’s not my fault you have no artistic bone in your body Sebastien,” Nicky says distantly as he writes a sweeping “thank you” on the high quality paper they also gave him.

“Ooo full name is coming out!” Joe snickers. 

It takes some coaxing but eventually Nicky is convinced to put the supplies away in order to open up his gift from Joe. Nicky’s heart flutters as he stares at the painting that is a mirror of the one Nile made for Joe’s birthday but with Nicky in Joe’s place. And of course, considering Joe painted this one, the style is uniquely his but the comparison is there nonetheless. “Thought I should complete the set,” Joe says with a soft smile. 

“Me and Joe had to arm wrestle for the privilege,” Nile adds with a grin and a nudge. 

“And my sister was gracious enough to let me win,” Joe hums, pulling Nile into a hug and smacking her cheek with a wet kiss as she tries to squirm away. 

“It’s beautiful,” Nicky whispers. He takes a shaky breath as Nicky stares at the adoration shining in Amani and Basim’s eyes, the fond smile playing on Nicky’s lips. Is this how Joe sees him and the kids? God he hopes so. He’s barely restraining himself from hugging the painting and, worried it’ll get ruined, Nicky immediately hunts down his tools and moves to hang it on the other side of Joe’s desk in their room so the paintings frame it. 

Soon it’s time for bed, and Amani and Basim receive a story from every adult as a compromise for the birthday guests staying rather than going home like they did during Joe’s birthday. God they’re spoiled and Nicky can’t even comment on it because he’s just as bad at humouring them. 

Once the kids are put to bed, the adults pull out Taboo. Alliances are quickly formed with Joe, Booker, and Nile on one team and Andy, Quỳnh, and Nicky on the other. Things derail fairly quickly after that. 

“The things Joe stuck up his nose on a dare!” Nile shouts. 

“Which one?” Joe cries. 

“The one that made you look like a walrus,” she adds. 

“Oh! Chopsticks!” 

“Please tell me you have photos,” Nicky says with a greedy glint in his eyes but Booker and Nile wave him away so they’re not distracted as she pulls another card. 

“It’s the first word in the title of that book Joe ranted at us about for hours.” 

_“Which one?”_ Joe says through gritted teeth as he tugs at his hair. Nicky bites back a laugh. Yeah, Nile needs to narrow the list of possibilities down.

“Um um um _oh!_ I do some of these for a living?”

“Paint?” Booker tries. 

Nile shakes her head and waves her hands for them to go on. “Um art? Paintings?” Joe rambles. 

“Time!” Quỳnh calls out. 

_”Portraits,”_ Nile growls, glaring at both men. 

“Okay only two points for them. Time to crush this,” Andy says as she rubs her hands together. While Booker looks over her shoulder with the squeaker, Nile flips the timer and Andy glances at her card and smirks. “Just the…” 

“Tip!” Quỳnh shouts out, making everyone else blanche while Andy smiles at her wife proudly.

“How…” Booker breathes. 

“Okay okay Nicky tried to convince us that this is as good as ice cream!” Andy says as she shoves Booker away. 

“Froyo?” Quỳnh guesses. 

“I stand by that claim,” Nicky mutters. As Andy does a chopping motion he adds, “Yogurt?” 

Throwing the card to the side and picking up another one in the pile Andy rushes out, “I needed this after I tried riding a horse backwards.” 

“I married such a dumbass,” Quỳnh bemoans with a shake of the head.

“Surgery,” Nicky snorts. Andy gives a thumbs up and gets a new card. 

“I get my wife like this every night,” Andy says with a lecherous leer. 

“Wet,” Quỳnh guesses with a wink.

“TMI!” is the chorused whine. 

But Andy ignores the protests because she’s on a roll. Nicky leans forward, determined to crush Joe’s team. 

“This is a thing that happens in the sport Nile wrongly assumes is better than soccer.” 

“Hey!” Nile protests. 

“Uhhh football?” Nicky says scratching his head. 

“Testosterone overload?” Quỳnh adds. 

“Time!”

“Touchdown,” Andy sighs, flicking the card away. 

“What’s that?” Nicky asks with an innocent blink so he can watch steam come out of Nile’s ears. 

“I hate you all,” she grumbles as she leans against Booker.

“Okay okay we can come back team, pull it together,” Joe says as he draws a card and the timer is reset. “Alright apparently Andy and Quỳnh ride these?” 

Nicky sounds the squeaker. “Can’t say ride,” he says with a victorious smirk while Joe mutters darkly under his breath. 

“C’mon al-Kaysani get your head in the game!” Booker calls out. 

Shooting him a glare Joe pays closer attention to the words he can’t say before stating, “Over the summer Amani and Basim came home from a day with their aunt and uncle covered in this.” 

“Mud and it was worth it,” Nile declares. 

Joe nods and grabs another card. “I needed to use these when Booker got a splinter and he came crying to me.” 

“Fuck you,” Booker says pleasantly while Nile moans out, “Fuuuuuck what are those called what are those called?” 

“Tweezers,” Booker grumbles. “And I didn’t cry I-” 

“Shhhh,” Nile and Joe say, waving him away wildly. 

Biting his lip as he studies the card Joe says, “Growing up I wanted one of these as a pet ‘cause they looked cuddly.”

“Ahh it’s the bear! The cold bear!” Booker says frantically. 

“Polar bear!” Nile cuts in. 

“That’s absolutely adorable,” Nicky declares. He can just imagine a mini Joe asking his parents if they could get one as a pet. As expected Joe turns to him, slightly flustered by his comment, and not soon after Andy calls time. 

“Wait- no that was _cheating,”_ Joe sputters as Nicky picks up a card. 

“All's fair in love and war caro mio,” Nicky says serenely before starting his turn. “Okay when Andy’s sick and she does this she sounds adorable.” 

“Sneeze,” Quỳnh says, pecking Andy’s cheek as the woman in question glowers at Nicky for revealing further that her tough exterior is bullshit. 

He bites his lip as he looks at the next card before singing, “The itsy bitsy…” Both woman stare at him blankly and Nicky remembers who his audience is. “Umm you both made fun of me for a week after I screamed when I spotted this in your house.” 

“Spider,” Andy snorts. 

“Aww Nico I’ll protect you from the big mean spiders,” Joe purrs, his smile hidden as Nicky clamps a hand over his mouth, laser focused on winning. 

“Andy’s always wanted this and we’ve had to bribe her multiple times to keep her from buying one.” 

“A sword and one day your lasagnas and Quỳnh's toys won’t work,” Andy declares. 

“TMI!” is the chorused groan once more. 

Nicky is hardly fazed, too busy coming up with a clue for the next card. Finally he rushes out, “Andy refuses to wear these.” 

Joe sounds the squeaker in Nicky’s ear. “Can’t say wear,” he says smugly, smile widening as Nicky glares at him. 

“Aaaand it doesn’t matter because that’s time anyway,” Nile states. 

“It was dress,” Nicky sighs. 

Booker and Nile study Andy. “Honestly seeing you in a dress would be pretty jarring,” Booker remarks as he picks up a card.

“Thank you,” Andy says with a tilted up nose as she grabs the squeaker and readjusts so she can see Booker’s hand.

“Okay. It’s a song Beyonce sings about a beverage?” Booker tries. 

“Lemonade,” Joe states immediately. 

“I’m so proud of you, white boy,” Nile says, wiping a fake tear away while Joe snorts and Booker ignores them both in favour of getting another card. 

“Ummm Nile puts lemon in this like a weirdo?” 

“Popcorn!” 

“It’s not weird,” Nile protests. 

“Keep going we’re on a roll,” Joe urges, shoving Nile away. 

And of course, since they really are just like siblings, this starts a slap fight only interrupted by Booker shouting, “Jeffrey!” 

“Hamster,” Joe says without hesitation. 

“Rest in peace,” Nile adds, making the sign of the cross and pointing to the heavens. 

“Wait you named your hamster _Jeffrey?”_ Quỳnh asks incredulously. 

“Thank god the kids wanted their lullaby CD tonight,” Nicky mutters. This game has been...louder than expected. Though it absolutely should’ve been expected given this particular group’s history. 

“Umm Pride!” Booker calls out next. 

“Gay?”

“Lesbian?”

“Bisexual?”

“No no the symbol!”

“Oh fuck rai-”

“Time!” Nicky shouts.

“Alright fuckers let’s do this shit,” Quỳnh says with a vicious grin as she picks up a card and the other team groans. “Nicky and I do this when we’re smashed.” 

“Karaoke!” 

“Wait when does this happen? When can I see this?” Joe asks frantically to hurried shushing. 

“Andy claims this was invented by the devil himself.”

“Quỳnh there are so many things that could be,” Nicky moans. 

“Fuck uh, Nicky and I do it together sometimes?”

“Oh, run!” 

Quỳnh flaps her hands and Nicky adds, “Jog?” When she stretches her hands apart Nicky’s says, “Oh! Jogging!” 

“Fucking finally,” Quỳnh hisses as she grabs another card. “I cover you both and me in this whenever we work the bar on Pride.”

“Glitter!” 

“His name but short!” Quỳnh states pointing to Booker. 

“Book,” Andy and Nicky say at the same time, highfiving with grins. 

“Awww fuck,” Quỳnh hisses as she stares at the next card. “Um. You grab onto it when you want to go up and down?” 

Nicky and Andy swap bemused glances but before they can make a guess Nile calls time. “How are you all so good at this?” Booker moans while Nicky preens when he tallies up their score. 

“It’s not fair! They have an advantage ‘cause they’ve known each other longer than the three of us,” Joe protests.

“Yeah, team change,” Nile argues. “I don’t wanna be with these losers.” 

“That hurts Nile. Hurts real deep,” Joe sighs mournfully.

“How about boys vs. girls?” Andy suggests with a dangerous smile. 

Nicky’s sense of victory rapidly evaporates. Oh fuck, they’re gonna die. “It’s my birthday so shouldn’t I get to choose the teams?” Nicky asks weakly.

“Mmm, no,” Quỳnh decides. 

“We’re gonna get crushed,” Booker hisses as Nicky shifts closer to him and Joe. 

“Yep. Yes we will,” Nicky sighs. His lips twitch as Nile settles between Andy and Quỳnh while trading grins with them. “But it’ll be worth it.”

Later that night after, as expected, the women crush them and everyone goes home, Nicky wraps himself around Joe and rests his head on Joe’s chest, one second away from passing out. “This was the best birthday I’ve ever had,” he murmurs into Joe’s neck. “Thank you.”

Joe strokes mindless designs along Nicky’s back. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” he hums. “Even if you couldn’t win at goldfish.” 

“Oh don’t worry, I’m already planning a rematch next time we all hang out,” Nicky vows. “I’m gonna crush Booker.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Joe huffs with a kiss on Nicky’s temple.

“Hey, that’s my line!” he protests, raising himself up to engage in a proper kiss. Joe immediately melts into it and draws Nicky down so they can kiss lazily. Nicky is starting to scheme how he can ask for a final birthday present when he yawns into the kiss. 

Joe chuckles and draws away, warm eyes dancing with mirth. “Tired you out already?” he teases. Nicky growls and claims those tempting lips in a more heated kiss this time, reveling in Joe’s quiet moan as he lets Nicky take control. The heat he feels coiling down his stomach is interrupted by another yawn however, this time from Joe. “It’s not my fault,” he says through it. “Yawns are contagious.” Nicky thumps his head against Joe’s chest, frame shaking with silent laughter at the absurdity of it all. “I was planning on giving you a final gift but now I’m afraid one or both of us will fall asleep in the middle of it,” Joe says ruefully. 

Nicky props himself on an elbow. “Hmm I’d like to see you wrapped up in a bow,” he purrs. Joe’s eyes darken and Nicky is thinking he can push through his exhaustion when both of them yawn together. 

Groaning, Nicky collapses across Joe who is chuckling quietly. “Rain check?” Joe suggests.

Snuggling closer in Joe’s arms and determining that this is a pretty good birthday gift too, Nicky nods and mumbles, “Rain check.” 

*******

Joe enters the door to the smell of something mouthwatering and the sight of Nicky, Amani, and Basim curled up on the couch while Topolina, and Cow sprawl across their laps. Yeah, they definitely need a larger couch. He’s surprised however when instead of the sound of one of the rotating TV shows the kids are into, he hears Gordon Ramsay. “Have we run out of TV shows to watch?” Joe asks with amusement as he puts down his bag and toes off his shoes. 

“Hi Baba! We’re watching MasterChef Junior!” Basim says, jumping up with Amani to give him a hug. 

“Oh, are we?” Joe asks with a raised brow to Nicky who shrugs sheepishly.

“And we’re gonna cook one of the things they’re making for tomorrow!” Amani pipes up. 

“Tonight we made taquitos though,” Basim says as he drags Joe over to the oven to see where they’re baking. 

“Can’t wait to try them,” Joe grins. And since Nicky and Joe have the timing down pat at this point, by the time Joe changes, the table is already set and the food is laid out. As he wolfs down his meal, partly because it’s delicious and partly because he _may_ have forgotten to eat lunch today, Joe listens to the kids chatter about their day. As usual, Basim happily shares what book he read while Amani would rather talk about the art she created. Joe glances over at the baby animal calendar hanging by the sink. Hopefully their teacher will be updating him soon on Amani’s progress. 

Tuning back in to the kids sharing what they did for recess, Joe slides his hand across the table to cover Nicky’s. The man in question looks up from his meal and smiles softly at Joe before flipping his hand to lock their fingers together. As he does, Joe feels some of the tension that had started to build up disperse once more. Fuck, he’ll never take the way Nicky can ground him for granted. 

“Out of curiosity, how many times did you have to stop yourself from yelling or throwing something at the TV when you were watching MasterChef Junior?” Joe asks later that night as they play a game of chess. Maybe this will be the night he can finally beat Nicky. 

He huffs out a breath of laughter as Nicky leans forward so he can thump his head against Joe’s chest. “Far too many,” he mumbles into his shirt. “Knights don’t move diagonally,” he adds as Joe attempts to take Nicky’s queen. 

“Are you sure? I coulda sworn that was one of their powers,” Joe says with a contemplative frown. 

Nicky draws back, a fond smile dancing on his lips. “I think you’re thinking of bishops Joe.”

“Ah, yes of course,” Joe says with an understanding nod as he tries to take one of Nicky’s knights. 

“That’s a rook,” Nicky deadpans. 

Joe returns the piece and sticks out his tongue. “These rules are dumb.”

“Yes of course, I’m sure Yusuf al-Kaysani’s rules make far much more sense,” Nicky notes, resting his chin on his fist with a solemn nod. 

“I’m glad we agree!” In all honesty he’s grasped the rules at this point, he just chooses to ignore them. It makes the game more entertaining that way. After studying the board Joe moves his rook to take one of Nicky’s pawns, swearing as a bishop swoops in to immediately take his rook. “I hate this game,” he mutters, scanning the board more carefully this time.

“And yet you keep suggesting we play it,” Nicky observes, smiling playfully.

“‘Cause I’m determined to beat you!” Joe declares, moving his knight to take Nicky’s bishop with a victorious grin.

It’s not even satisfying though because Nicky beams at Joe and exclaims, “Nice move Joe!”

“You’re not supposed to be pleased you’re supposed to be devastated that I finally took a piece bigger than a pawn,” Joe grumbles.

“I can’t be devastated and proud?” Nicky asks innocently while he moves his knight to an empty space. 

Joe’s eyes narrow, trying to catch what Nicky could be planning with that piece before mentally shrugging and moving a pawn to take one of Nicky’s. “I guess so,” he sighs, swearing as Nicky moves his knight to take Joe’s rook. “How did I miss that?” he moans. 

He melts slightly when Nicky leans forward to peck Joe’s lips. Smiling, Joe looks back to the board and takes one of Nicky’s pawns. He never had an interest in chess, despite his parents enjoying the game themselves. But when Nicky brought home a chess set a month or so ago, explaining how he and Quỳnh play all the time, the game suddenly had an appeal. He just didn’t realise how damn _hard_ it would be. Soft lips between his eyebrows smooth out the frown he was sporting as he contemplates his next move. “Wanna call it quits for the night?” Nicky asks. 

“No I’m gonna beat you this time Nico,” Joe declares as he moves his bishop to an empty space with confidence. 

Nicky hums, smile playing on his lips when he changes the subject. “So how was work?” 

Joe grins. Even if this could be a way to distract him, Joe can never resist talking about his other kids. “We reached the balcony scene in _Romeo and Juliet_ so I had half the students stand at the bottom of a stairwell and the other half at the top in order to act it out. Kids had the time of their lives. Then later in my creative writing elective students shared out the poems they’ve been working on and one read ‘An Ode to Ice Cream’ which I found incredibly relatable. And in the afternoon students had a debate over what the pig’s head in _Lord of the Flies_ symbolises which culminated in a student standing on their desk, raising up the white board eraser, and declaring, ‘I have the conch so I have the floor.’” 

Joe preens as Nicky snorts. He loves Nicky’s snort laugh, especially when it’s in response to something Joe does or says. “So just a typical day in Mr. al-Kaysani’s classroom then,” Nicky remarks with a soft smile. 

And Joe can’t even be annoyed that Nicky said that as he took Joe’s last bishop because seeing Nicky happy is like a damn aphrodisiac to him. “More or less,” he agrees before knocking away Nicky’s knight with a victorious “ah-ha!” 

His victory is short-lived however when Nicky retaliates by taking his queen. “Remember tesoro, you have to think multiple moves ahead, not just take the first opening you see,” Nicky gently reminds him. 

Joe glowers at the board before picking up his rook and skipping over multiple pieces in order to knock over Nicky’s king. “There. I win. Game over.” 

“You’re such a sore loser,” Nicky says fondly, leaning forward to kiss Joe’s lips once more. This is how most of their games end, and Joe doesn’t feel compelled to change his strategy since it always leads to the same result. Drawing back despite Joe’s whine, Nicky knocks down Joe’s king, making him sputter with indignation. “Well, it’s getting late anyway. Might as well turn in.” 

They pack the game away and get ready for bed in companionable silence, and as Cow jumps onto their bed, Joe wraps Nicky in his arms with a happy sigh. He loves when he gets to fall asleep with Nicky in their bed, though waking up to find Nicky replacing the pillow Joe always snuggles with after a shift isn’t too bad either. “How was _your_ day?” he mumbles into the hollow of Nicky’s throat. 

“Good. Played with the building blocks. Did some reading exercises with the kids.” 

“Ah, is that how MasterChef happened?” The kids don’t usually watch hour-long shows, but they’ve been given some rewards whenever Amani is asked to do a harder skill. 

Nicky cards his fingers through Joe’s hair, causing his eyes to flutter shut with pleasure. “Amani had a tough time,” he murmurs. “Cooking always boosts her confidence.”

Joe sighs and tightens his hold around Nicky. “I'm gonna reach out to their teacher since it’s almost mid-December.”

Nicky pauses his ministrations so he can wrap his arms around Joe too. “Will she be alright?” 

Joe sighs once more, knowing the trepidation in Nicky’s voice is mirrored in his own. “It’ll be hard work but if it turns out she has a learning disability it’s good that they caught it early.” 

“I’m just worried. She already can tell that Basim seems to find reading and writing easier than her.” 

Joe rolls them over so he can press his ear against Nicky’s chest and hear that steady thump of the heart he's given Joe and his children. “Maybe we’ll have a conversation about how different brains work. I have a friend who works primary and she does that with her younger students. Amani would probably appreciate us being transparent anyway.” 

Nicky presses a kiss to Joe’s temple. “I’ll follow your lead.” 

With the looming conversations he’ll need to have, Joe is suddenly far too awake for the time of night. “Tell me a story?” It’s one of his favourite rituals. Some may find it childish, making up stories to tell each other, but they always chase away the demons that sometimes linger too close for comfort in the dark of night. 

Nicky presses a kiss to his temple. “It would be my pleasure.”

*******

**Fawzia** *image sent*

 **Fawzia** _WHO THE FUCK IS THIS_

Joe winces as the halloween photo he posted of him, Nicky, and the kids glares accusingly in his messages. Looks like Fawzia is back in full service. 

**Fawzia** _ANSWER ME YUSUF AL-KAYSANI_

 **Me** _I can explain?_

 **Fawzia** _OHOHOHO YOU BETTER_

 **Fawzia** _AND IM NOT LETTING YOU GET AWAY WITH A TEXT MESSAGE EXPLANATION SO DONT EVEN TRY! WHEN I GET THERE YOU AND I WILL BE GOING ON A LONG WALK_

Joe has unwelcome flashbacks to the countless times Fawzia would take him for ice cream because of something idiotic he did like attempt to jump a fence or befriend a raccoon or smoke. (That last one resulted in probably the longest lecture of all.) But even the infamous lecture of ‘01 may finally be surpassed by Joe’s latest slip up. 

He releases a whimper against Nicky’s rumbling chest as his cruel partner reads the text conversation and chortles. Fuck he doesn’t know if he’s gonna survive this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been DYING to introduce Joe’s sister so I’m so excited she will be making an appearance soon! Also I was very tempted to continue the Taboo scene with what the game would look like with the new teams but that seemed even more self-indulgent than that scene already was. The Moto Pups scene is inspired by real life events from when I babysat last weekend. When I entered the house the first thing these two boys did (who are the only reason I know what the hell Paw Patrol is in the first place) was shout to me about the Moto Pups episode before dragging me to the couch so they could watch it for the third time that morning. This chapter is dedicated to you, Troy and Brendan!
> 
> On another note I discovered that apparently plaster fun time is only a thing in Massachusetts? I’m so sorry no one else can experience the simple joy of painting someone else’s pottery during a birthday party or family outing but in my world a location has been opened in Indiana. What a coincidence! 
> 
> [Nicky’s mug](https://www.teepublic.com/mug/10232420-i-speak-italian-funny-italy-pride-italia)


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some days are better than others but that's what family's for. Later Joe faces a new experience and Nicky and Joe have a date night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sincere thank you for your continued support of this fic! I’m thrilled that you all are as excited to meet Fawzia as I am to introduce her! Since this chapter is actually a split of last chapter because it had been growing too long, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait another week to meet her. I promise the wait will be worth it though! (And there's a little preview at the end of this chapter to thank you for your patience.)

It comes in waves with no clear pattern that Nicky can track. He watches helplessly as Joe moves in bed just enough to reach for his phone and send what Nicky knows is a balloon to his group chat with Booker and Nile. Joe explained it to him the first time he got like this and Nicky found Booker and Nile at the door not 30 minutes later. They’ve essentially formed their own grief support group over the years, reaching out when it gets too much. Unfortunately Joe can’t take a day off of work every time a wave hits, and that wouldn’t be the healthiest approach either.

Instead, after letting himself be held by Nicky for as long as he can reasonably get away with, Joe sighs, turns off his snoozed alarm, and crawls out of bed. Nicky watches him go with an aching heart, feeling helpless as always. By the time Nicky reaches the kitchen Joe has hidden the heavy cloud hanging over his head with smiles and goofiness, dangling Amani upside down by her feet while she shrieks with delight. As Topolina barks at him and Basim tugs at Joe’s shirt in an attempt to save his sister, most people would be hard pressed to believe that Joe’s laughter isn’t genuine. Nicky isn’t most people. 

“Do you need rescuing Amani?” Nicky asks with a forced grin, bending sideways so he’s level with her beaming face. 

“Save me Nicky Mouse!” she giggles. 

Nicky straightens and rests his chin in his hand with a contemplative expression before raising a finger like he’s reached an epiphany. “I got it!” he exclaims, before leaning forward and pecking Joe on the nose. 

“ARRGHH you found my weakness!” Joe bellows, stumbling back dramatically and flipping Amani on her feet, steadying her as she wobbles. It’s only when Basim and Amani turn to sit at the table and wait for breakfast with wide grins that Joe lets himself slump slightly. 

“Why don’t you take a shower, hm? I’ll get breakfast ready,” Nicky suggests, squeezing Joe’s shoulders as he studies him with worried eyes. As much as he would like to hold Joe while he breaks down, sometimes their schedules just won’t allow it. Joe presses his forehead to Nicky’s with a shaky sigh before nodding silently. Once he leaves, Nicky closes his eyes for a brief moment. He wishes he could lift this weight off of Joe’s heart. How desperately he wishes. 

By the time Joe gets to work, a bit later than he would like because he needed to hold onto Amani and Basim longer than usual, Booker is already at his desk. Thankful that the students won’t be arriving for another 30 minutes, Joe lets himself be enveloped in one of Booker’s bear hugs. “I got you mon nounours. I got you,” he murmurs. A minuscule smile penetrates his numb haze at the ridiculous nickname Booker gave him early on in their acquaintance. It took a lost bet during a football game for Booker to finally translate it for him. 

As quickly as the smile comes it’s gone once more and Joe sags within the arms of the man who has been by his side every step of his grief for four years. They stand in silence as Joe draws strength from Booker’s steady presence in order to face the day with a smile on his face, brittle as it may be. “Do you need to call out?” Booker eventually asks quietly. It’s a question they ask each other whenever one of them sends the red balloon on a work day, but Joe immediately shakes his head. 

“No. Need the distraction,” he rasps. Pulling away while keeping a grip on Booker’s arms Joe asks meekly, “Will I see you tonight?” 

Booker draws him back into a tight hug. “Already set up a time to pick up Nile and Patricia.” Joe feels his heart clench at the assurance. Now that Patricia has moved closer they’ve looped her into their program so she can use it as well. Fortunately she’s taken advantage of the support as much as the rest of them. 

With the promise of tonight Joe takes a step back and a steady breath. “Thanks Book,” he whispers. 

Booker clamps a hand on Joe’s shoulder, ducking down so Joe meets his eyes, always so full of compassion. It amazes Joe how steady and supportive Booker is considering he lacked the support system Joe was given when he lost Renée. He knows Booker’s stability was hard won and he’s pathetically grateful he didn’t need to follow the same path Booker did to earn it. “Don’t thank me till I get my promised ice cream,” Booker quips. 

Joe huffs out a weak laugh before shoving Booker away. “Jackass.” 

Grinning now that he’s gotten what he was looking for (they never let each other go until they’ve made the other laugh, no matter how weak) Booker treks towards the door, walking backwards. “Hang in there, mon nounours,” he murmurs. “I’ll see you soon.”

Once Booker’s gone Joe throws himself into his work, desperate for the distraction as he feels that creeping sense of panic crawling up his throat. He’s always terrified for his kids ever since he lost Monique but days like this make that fear especially fraught. Thankfully, Nicky falls into old habits from the early days, snapping and sending photos of Amani and Basim as they eat, play, walk to school, and are dropped off and picked up. Leaving Amani and Basim is the worst part of these kinds of days, so having confirmation that they’re okay is certainly a comfort. 

When he trudges through the door that evening followed by Booker, Nile, and Patricia, Joe beelines straight to Amani and Basim and holds them far too tightly and for far too long. “Is today an Up day Baba?” Basim eventually asks against Joe’s chest when he still hasn't let them go. 

Joe squeezes his eyes shut as he holds the twins impossibly closer. “Yeah habibi,” he rasps. “Today’s an Up day.” 

Amani nods determinately. “I’ll get the ice cream.” 

“I’ll get the movie!” 

As the kids scurry away Joe slumps and Nicky swoops in, holding him in a gentle embrace. Nicky knows how inadequate Joe feels in these moments, fearing he’s making the kids grow up too fast and having to care for him. “Sono qui,” Nicky murmurs in Joe’s ear. Joe closes his eyes. Those two words shouldn’t be so reassuring, yet they are. It’s become a habit of theirs to exchange that phrase to each other when one of them is struggling and it’s like a soothing balm each time. He allows himself to be held up for an extra second before releasing a shaky breath and getting to work. 

Soon pillows and blankets are gathered from beds and storage, the coffee table is moved, and everyone wiggles together into a giant cuddle pile in the center of the living room. They have it down pat now. As everyone settles, Amani and Basim snuggle into Joe’s lap while he and Nile sit between Patricia, Booker pressed against Nile’s other side. Nicky, because he’s a wonderful understanding man, doesn’t resent Joe for not gravitating immediately toward him, let alone the fact that Joe is mourning a past relationship. Instead, he steadies Joe on his other side and lifts Cow into his lap while Topolina rests her head on one of his knees. 

Joe wraps his arms around Amani and Basim tightly as he repeats the familiar mantra in his head. _They’re okay. They’re here. They’re alive._

Some may question the choice of a movie depicting the death of a man’s wife but ever since Joe watched this and bawled his eyes out it’s always been cathartic. Sometimes you need to cry, especially on days when all you feel is a fluctuating emotion of numbness and terror. As Basim and Amani giggle at the antics of Russell and Dug though, Joe feels himself begin to relax, if only slightly. He takes a shaky breath as he buries his nose in the braids and curls of his children’s hair and waits for the tears to come. 

Monique would be shamelessly teasing him; they always joked about how he was the crybaby of the two of them. The screen grows blurry as he recalls their first date when they watched _How to Train Your Dragon 2_ and he started sobbing in the middle of the movie theatre. He was sincerely regretting not doing better research before choosing the movie and had been bemoaning the fact that the woman who made him laugh so hard he choked on his drink earlier was about to walk out on him. Instead, Monique started snickering in his shoulder and commented that she would’ve packed tissues if she knew her date was such a crybaby. As he stared into her laughing eyes through his tears Joe knew without a doubt that he was going to marry her. 

Just had no idea it would end so soon. 

While Carl looks through the scrapbook near the end of the film, Joe lets the familiar grief wash over him, relieved that it’s finally penetrated the numbness that’s encased his heart all day. Nicky and Patricia’s arms wrap slightly tighter around him as Joe closes his eyes and allows himself to mourn. 

_Up._ It never fails. 

*******

Joe is many things. A fantastic teacher, a caring father, a wonderful artist....an ice skater he is not. “If humans were meant to move on ice we would have knives attached to our feet,” Joe grumbles as he takes a tentative step onto the ice, latching onto Nicky’s arm as he does. 

“If you say so curo mio,” Nicky replies indulgently while he steadies Joe. He wasn’t expecting Joe to not know how to ice skate, let alone be so adorably hesitant about it. Then again, Nicky can’t really talk. Until he met Andy and Quỳnh, he hadn’t stepped on a rink either and his learning curve was more trial by fire. And while ordinarily he hates the cold, Nicky has learned to enjoy ice skating. It was a new way of gaining exercise when just the thought of running through some of his old football drills would make Nicky’s stomach roll. He’s not a terrifying badass hockey player though so Nicky is easing Joe into it. Andy and Quỳnh on the other hand met playing on opposite hockey teams when Andy gave Quỳnh a bloody nose and Quỳnh gave Andy a black eye. It was love at first sight. 

Instead of tearing up the rink today however, both women are gently guiding Amani and Basim through the proper motions. And despite the heavy padding on both children and them being in the hands of two women who have been skating for most of their lives, Joe is fixated more on Amani and Basim than his own feet. This hasn’t made Nicky’s job too easy. “Remember amore, Andy and Quỳnh coach youth league, they know what they’re doing. I’m more worried about you,” Nicky says with amusement as Joe stumbles over a tentative step. He grins at Joe’s sullen glare while he tightens his death grip on Nicky’s arm.

“Baba look!” Amani calls, sticking her tongue out while she pushes her crate forward to make it to them. 

“Want me to get a crate for you too Yusuf?” Nicky asks with a shit-eating grin. His smile only widens as Joe continues to glower at him. 

“Good job Amani!” Joe says with a weak nod as she finally reaches them, Andy floating easily beside her. He frowns when he spots Quỳnh crouched down while Basim presses against her chest though. Joe’s expression hardens with resolve and with wobbly steps he begins to make his way to Basim. There are a couple close calls but ultimately Joe crosses the short distance to Basim without completely faceplanting, though the blood circulation in Nicky's arm suffers for it. 

“How are you doing habibi?” Joe asks, attempting to crouch down and yelping as he falls on his ass instead. Nicky snickers into his hand while Basim giggles and toddles over to his father in an endearing attempt to help which ultimately leads to him landing on Joe instead. As Joe’s breath leaves him given the heavy weight of padding currently pressing into his gut, he glowers at Nicky, Andy, and Quỳnh who are all cackling. “Are you planning on helping?” he wheezes. 

“Nah I’m good,” Andy smirks. 

“Yeah I’m comfy,” Basim announces, as he nuzzles his father and bangs him in the head with his helmet in the process. 

Joe turns beseeching eyes towards Nicky that he is helpless to resist. After taking a photo because it’s too cute not to, Nicky gently sets Basim back on his feet. He wobbles but Quỳnh is already there to guide Basim back to his crate. “Ready to try again Basim?” she asks, crouching down so they’re face to face. Basim bites his lip before nodding tentatively. 

While Andy and Quỳnh move to guide Amani and Basim around the rink once more, Nicky grins down at Joe and props his hands on his hips. “Fancy meeting you at a place like this,” he purrs. 

Joe only pouts. “While I would usually admire the view, my ass is turning numb.” Snorting, Nicky offers a hand up and launches to steady Joe when he tries letting go of the poor man too soon. “Don’t do that again,” Joe hisses as he holds onto Nicky’s arm with his life. 

“Sorry love,” Nicky chuckles pecking Joe’s cheek in apology. 

“You owe me so much hot chocolate after this,” Joe grumbles as Nicky discreetly brushes off some ice from Joe’s ass. 

“Whatever you say Joe,” Nicky says indulgently. 

Fortunately after a couple more close calls, two falls on his ass, and several muttered prayers, Joe starts to get the hang of it. _Un_ fortunately, once Amani begins to grasp the technique she tries speeding up which ultimately leads to a crying fit when she falls. This is quickly resolved after Joe forgets that he’s on ice and tries running to her, face planting in the process. As Andy skates to Joe holding a now giggling Amani in her arms, she quips, “I think it may be time for some hot cocoa.” 

“Alhamdulillah,” Joe says fervently. Accepting Nicky’s hand up, Joe kisses Amani’s now dry tears. “Are you okay habibti?” 

Amani nods with a bite of her lip. “Auntie told me I needed to go slow but I didn’t listen.” 

“Hmm well I know you’ll listen next time, right?” 

“We’re gonna do this again?” Basim asks hopefully as he finally makes it to them. It took him some time but Basim soon began to enjoy himself, though he went far slower than his sister, thank God. 

Nicky raises a brow to Joe who lifts his face to the heavens before sighing explosively. “Yes Basim, if you would like to do this again I suppose we can.” As both kids cheer Joe leans his head on Nicky’s shoulder. “I get to throw away a pair of cargo pants for every trip to this godforsaken rink you take me too,” he says through a forced smile. 

Nicky rolls his eyes with a grin. Well, relationships _are_ all about compromise. 

As promised, once skates are taken off and returned, they all head back to Joe and Nicky’s apartment for some hot cocoa. “Excuse me but I ordered extra marshmallows,” Joe calls from where he’s huddled under a blanket between Amani and Basim. Nicky shoots him a half-hearted glare. He promised to treat Joe because Nicky knows it wasn’t easy for him to let Amani and Basim skate but he’s dearly regretting his decisions now. If that ridiculous man didn’t look so cozy and soft Nicky would make Joe get his own damn marshmallows but, alas, Nicky is a weak weak man. 

“Apologies,” Nicky says sweetly before bringing the bag of marshmallows over with a roll of his eyes. Once everyone’s hot cocoa is to their satisfaction, Nicky forces his way onto the couch because he _deserves_ cuddles after that. Meanwhile Andy and Quỳnh are content to share a chair because, as established, they’re disgustingly in love. 

“So first day of ice skating is a success,” Quỳnh declares, raising her mug in a toast. 

“Next time we’ll teach you kids how to handle a hockey stick,” Andy says with a wink, snickering at the way Joe stiffens and his eyes widen with panic. 

“Baby steps Andy! We are moving in _baby steps,”_ Nicky reminds her through gritted teeth. As he strokes a soothing path along the back of Joe's neck the poor man begins to relax once more.

“Ruin all my fun,” she grumbles. 

“Don’t worry love, you and I can play some pick up next week, k?” Quỳnh suggests as she tangles her fingers into Andy’s short-cropped hair. 

“Ooo can we watch?” Amani requests, leaning forward eagerly. 

“It’s...not kid friendly,” Quỳnh admits with a wince while Nicky shakes his head frantically. He’s gone to countless games of theirs and not only do they get _brutal_ but the usually mild women turn utterly savage. Quỳnh is a pit viper on the rink while Andy is an absolute bulldozer. Plus there’s the swearing and drinking of course. Booker would probably love to watch it though. Nicky makes a note to invite Booker next time he goes to a match. 

He frowns as he notices Basim and Amani’s disappointed expressions. From what he can tell, Joe hasn’t really gotten them into sports yet, even though they’re at a perfect age to start finding what they may enjoy playing. Hockey is probably out given how violent it can get but maybe he and Joe can consider some other possibilities for both kids to try. Nicky feels a pang in his heart at the thought. He would suggest football but Nicky doesn’t know what would happen if he let that sport back into his life. Sipping his hot cocoa and relaxing as the warmth pools in his stomach, Nicky shakes off his melancholic thoughts. There are countless other sports out there for Amani and Basim to fall in love with. He’ll just suggest one of those. 

Nicky scowls at Andy when a marshmallow hits his head. “Can I help you?” 

“Yeah you were glaring at your hot chocolate like it insulted Joe,” she says with a smirk, earning a chuckle from the person in question.

Nicky rolls his eyes and throws the marshmallow back at Andy who catches it in her mouth like the show off she is. “I was just contemplating what kind of weirdo puts orange zest in their hot cocoa,” he muses. 

“I think what you meant to say is what kind of _genius,”_ Andy claims. 

“No, I’m with Nicky. It’s weird,” Joe nods, smirking as he throws an arm around Nicky’s shoulder.

“Which is a good thing Auntie ‘cause Baba always says that there’s no such thing as normal and all the best people are weird,” Basim says with an encouraging grin. 

“Aww thank you for the compliment in that case Nicky,” Andy croons as a shit-eating grin crosses her face. 

Nicky shakes his head, lips curving into a smile. This is not the first time nor will it be the last that Joe’s parenting bites him in the ass. And honestly, he couldn’t care less. 

*******

As Joe watches Nicky’s profile in the candlelight while his love studies the menu he finds himself sighing wistfully. They haven’t gone on a proper date in a couple months, and Patricia has finally kicked them out of the apartment to do so. It’s a good thing she did too since this’ll be the last chance they have to be alone before Joe is most likely killed by his (rightfully) irate sister. Since she confronted him about the facebook post, Fawzia has been sending such passive aggressive gems like “Oh I almost forgot- since we last spoke I decided IM NOT ACTUALLY A LESBIAN and am currently married to a hunky man name Gerald. He’s an accountant and we have triplets.” Or, “Hey Yusuf, somehow it slipped my mind but I’ll be traveling to space next week so I won’t be able to see you.” Yeah...Joe deserves this treatment. 

In retrospect he doesn’t really know what he was thinking. Of _course_ Fawzia would’ve wanted to know about Joe’s love life and Joe has been dying to tell her. It’s just...once he tells her, everyone important in his life would know. And it would prove that he’s finally moving on. Plus, given Fawzia’s spotty service he was terrified that one day he would tell her they were dating and the next time they spoke Nicky would’ve decided he couldn’t do this anymore. And then Nicky proved time and time again he wasn’t going anywhere until it seemed too late to confess and now he’s in a mess of his own making. 

“Contemplating your less than excellent life choices again hayati?” Nicky asks without taking his eyes off the Chinese menu. 

“Nico you haven’t reconsidered my suggestion that we move to Alaska and maybe start our lives over have you?” Joe asks desperately. 

Nicky lowers his menu so he can shoot Joe an amused smile. “Unfortunately for you, no. Personally the cold and I have never been friends and I don’t think Basim and Amani would appreciate being apart from their grandparents and aunt indefinitely.” 

Joe thumps his head against the table. “I’m doomed,” he moans. 

“There there,” Nicky says vaguely, patting Joe’s head. “Perhaps she won’t completely eviscerate you.”

Joe tilts his head so he can shoot Nicky a one-eyed glare. “Need I remind you of the time I used all her makeup and she responded by filling my boxers with itching powder?” His glare strengthens as Nicky struggles and fails not to laugh. “Or the time when I made out with her crush and she drew a fake mustache and goatee on my face??” 

“Honestly I’m shocked you’re still such a deep sleeper after that particular incident,” Nicky remarks as he takes a dainty sip of his tea. Joe mimics him in an admittedly childish way before straightening awkwardly as their server makes his way over. Once they’ve ordered and Joe shoots Nicky another beseeching gaze, he simply raises a brow. “Remember you’ve put me in a rather precarious position as well here caro mio.” 

Joe groans at the reminder. “Trust me, she’ll hate me for that too and will love you,” Joe assures him. “And if I cook her enough food maybe she’ll forgive me by next year.”

“I can at least help in that department,” Nicky muses, and Joe notices how his shoulders relax. Fuck, he knows that Nicky is more nervous than he’s letting on. Apparently there have been very few relationships that have ever reached the “meet the parents” level, and he's never been in any as serious as theirs. 

Joe reaches across the table to squeeze Nicky’s hand. “They’re gonna love you. I promise.” 

“You can’t promise that,” Nicky sighs but Joe shakes his head. 

“I love you. My kids love you. You make us all happy. Of course they’ll love you.” He beams at the tiny pleased smile gracing Nicky’s lips as he ducks his head. Admittedly Joe is slightly terrified about Nicky formally meeting his family too but not for the same reasons. His family can be...a lot in the best possible ways. Joe’s tendency towards dramatics and passion for nearly every topic had to be inherited from _some_ where. He just doesn’t want Nicky to get scared off. Not to mention he vividly recalls how Nicky reacted the first time Patricia showed just a hint of approval and maternity towards him. When Joe’s parents fall in love with Nicky (and Joe knows they will) he can only hope that Nicky isn’t too overwhelmed. 

“If you frown any harder a good samaritan is gonna swoop in and save you from what must be a shitty date,” Nicky remarks glumly.

Joe’s head shoots up and his eyes widen with panic. “Of course I don’t need rescuing! I-“ he cuts himself off in the face of Nicky’s sparkling eyes. “Asshole,” he grumbles, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. 

“An asshole you loooove,” Nicky sings. Aw he can’t help it. Joe grins and returns his hand in its rightful place. Nicky squeezes it, growing solemn as he studies Joe. “You okay tesoro?” 

Joe sighs explosively and rakes his fingers through his hair. “Just remember our codeword and feel free to use it whenever you need, k?” 

Nicky smiles crookedly and nods. “Aye aye captain.”

Joe snorts with amusement and takes a sip of his water. 

As Joe watches with adoration while Nicky battles with his chopsticks once their appetizers arrive, he remarks, “I forget if I told you this but under no circumstance is Fawzia to meet Andy and Quỳnh.” When Nicky shoots him a puzzled look, gyoza dangling precariously from his chopsticks, Joe leans forward and elaborates, “Their combined energy would be too powerful! We wouldn’t stand a chance.” 

Nicky snorts like he thinks that Joe is exaggerating but he’s not! “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this amore mio, but I can’t get Andy and Quỳnh to do anything, and from what you've told me about your sister the same goes for you.” 

Joe looks at Nicky hopelessly. “We’re doomed.”

Nicky reaches out to pat Joe’s hand. “There there, everything will be alright.”

Joe shoots Nicky a sullen glare and flips his hand over so Nicky can lock their fingers together. “That’s what you think,” he grumbles. Determining it’s best to change the subject so Joe doesn’t linger on his impending doom, he adds, “So the book’s finally submitted, huh? How do you feel?” They’ve agonised over the final edits for weeks and finally caved and sent it to the editor today. If it still needs edits she’ll let them know but it’s out of their hands now. 

Nicky worries his lip and Joe is far too tempted to kiss that sign of stress away. “Feels weird,” he finally admits with a shrug. “I dunno if I thought it would ever get this far. And it’s all thanks to you,” he says, gaze warm like a caress.

Joe scoffs. “You woulda figured something out Nico,” he insists but Nicky just shakes his head.

“No,” he says softly. “I don’t think I would.” He studies their linked hands for a weighted moment before murmuring, “You’re a missing piece to a puzzle I’ve been trying to complete for some time, Joe. I thought I knew what it looked like but I was wrong. And what I found instead is far better.” 

Those eyes Joe still hasn’t perfected despite innumerable attempts rise and pierce him in place with a gentle fervor. “Nico,” Joe says, voice breaking. But like so many times before, Nicky has wrought him speechless.

“I love you Joe. I love you more than cooking and calligraphy,” Nicky declares with a fond smile. 

Joe releases a wet laugh. He shouldn’t get so emotional whenever Nicky makes some poetic declaration of love and yet no matter how many times he does Joe is always left speechless and flustered. “Our list of restaurants is gonna dwindle down to zero if you insist on causing me to make a scene in each one,” he croaks as he attempts to blink away the tears. 

“Don’t worry Joe, I’ll be your restaurant,” Nicky replies with a wink. 

Joe barks out a laugh at the drastic tonal change. “Is that some kind of come on?” He asks. 

Nicky hums, stroking a thumb along Joe’s knuckles. “I’ll happily serve you anything you desire,” he says in a sultry purr. 

Joe guffaws, shaking his head emphatically. “That was _terrible,”_ he gasps while Nicky snickers. 

“Guess I’ll have to cross that one of the list,” Nicky finally admits dramatically. 

Joe snorts as he takes a bite of a spring roll. “Yeah, not your best material.” 

The rest of dinner passes with easy conversation and light teasing as they outline some of their plans for when Joe’s family arrives. They’ll be staying over winter break since his parents are retired and Fawzia is giving herself a brief respite as she begins applying for jobs. While Joe is excited to have all of his family in the same place for the first time in years, it’s important for him to have some activities planned in his back pocket for the inevitable clash of personalities between the serendipitous members of his family and those who prefer something called “order and organisation.” He smiles fondly at the realisation that Nicky slips easily into one of those categories while he lies in the other.

Once their meal is cleared Joe’s eyes widen with delight at what is placed on the table. A bowl of pineapple chunks now sits between them, with two tiny swords stuck through two pieces. Eating a pineapple Joe raises one of the tiny swords. “En guarde!” he exclaims. 

Nicky shoots him a flat look. “Am I truly dating a child?” He asks dryly.

But Joe just waggles his eyebrows. “You know you want to.” After a moment, Nicky rolls his eyes and eats a piece of pineapple so his sword is also bare. 

Beaming, Joe says dramatically, “I do not wish to fight you my love. I’m sorry it has come to this.” 

“Oh woe is me,” Nicky deadpans. 

Thus begins an epic battle as their swords clash together. “I never wanted it to come to this,” Joe bemoans, parrying Nicky’s slash attack. 

“Your betrayal stabs like a knife,” Nicky drones. Despite his attempt to act disinterested Nicky’s eyes glitter with mirth. 

Joe pauses the fight. “Wait- who says _I_ betrayed _you?”_

Nicky raises a brow. “You attacked first. Ergo, you’re the villain in this story.”

Joe clutches his heart. “Oh, a man as dastardly as you would say so, wouldn’t he!” 

“No, you are the dastardly one here, not I,” Nicky orates, his indifferent veneer melting to make way for a boyish grin. Allah is he beautiful. 

Swooping his sword down, Joe pierces a pineapple to munch on before returning to the vicious battle. “So you refuse to admit your crimes?” Joe demands. 

“And what crimes would those be?” Nicky scoffs as he pauses to eat another chunk as well. 

“You truly don’t know?” Joe gasps. Leaning over the table and waiting for Nicky to do the same Joe hisses, “I saw what you did. What you tried to hide from me.” 

Nicky furrows his brow with confusion before snorting. “So you found my new cargo pants, huh?” 

Joe lets his sword clatter and leans back with a hand pressing to his heart. “I’ve even been remembering to make our bed this week!” 

Nicky stabs his sword through another pineapple and pops it in his mouth. “This is true tesoro, but our tally board indicates that I earn a new pair,” he says serenely. Joe gapes at him. Has it really been five apologies already? He’s been doing so well! 

Slumping Joe releases a forlorn sigh. “I suppose I deserve such betrayal then.” 

Nicky releases a hum of agreement and plucks up his fortune cookie. When he cracks it open though he rolls his eyes and turns it to show Joe, who snorts. _”You need more sleep._ Well...it’s not wrong,” he quips. Opening his fortune cookie Joe clears his throat. _”A new hat will brighten your day and give you an updated look._ I could use some new hats,” Joe muses. 

“Between your hat hoarding and the cargo pants I’ll inevitably be able to buy because of our deal, we may need some more closet and drawer space soon,” Nicky comments wryly. 

Popping the fortune cookie in his mouth Joe chews it thoughtfully. “I dunno, if we burn all your cargo pants I think we’ll have enough room.” He yelps as Nicky flicks his sword at Joe. “Oh I see how it is,” he declares, picking up the sword. “En guarde!” 

When they stumble through the apartment door later, bellies full of food and laughter, they find Patricia curled up on the couch with Cow and Topolina cuddling on and beside her respectfully. “Kids went down alright?” Joe asks as they peel off their many layers. Patricia hums in affirmation, leading Joe to release a sigh of relief. Though he knows the kids insisted on staying up last time because they weren’t used to Joe traveling out of state without them, Joe worried that it would become a habit in the future. 

Switching off the TV Patricia turns to Nicky. “I have something to confess,” she admits gravely. 

“You’ve rearranged my spice cabinet again?” Nicky prompts with a raised brow.

“I stand by my arrangement,” she declares, making Joe huff out a breath of laughter. The proper way to maintain a kitchen has become a familiar argument between these two and Joe is always endlessly amused. 

He plops down in a chair to witness the oncoming debate but Patricia shakes her head. “I watched the latest episode of MasterChef Junior with the kids,” she sighs. 

Nicky releases a gasp and clutches his hand to his chest. “ _How could you?”_ he hisses. 

But Patricia just shrugs unrepentantly. “The last episode left me in suspense! It’s your fault for getting me into the show.” While Nicky sputters indignantly, Joe leans back in the chair, raising his arms over his head with a grin as he settles in to watch one of _his_ favourite shows. Yeah, Patricia moving closer has certainly benefited them all.

*******

_Dear Mr. al-Kaysani,_

_I’m writing to update you on Amani’s progress as promised. Unfortunately, we are not seeing the growth we were hoping for so we are going to move ahead with testing if you’re amenable. You’ll be receiving the initial evaluation consent form shortly. Whether you wish to move forward with testing is ultimately your decision and if you would like to discuss this option further I'm happy to speak to you on the phone. Simply send me what times work for you and we can set up a call. If you sign consent, we’ll begin testing immediately after winter break._

_In other news, I wanted to tell you that Basim and Amani continue to be wonderful students to have in class. Despite Amani’s resistance towards reading and writing, we've seen an increase in her determination to try her best and I’m very proud of her. She also continues to be quite proficient in math and is always willing to share out her answers and approach students who linger at the edges of social circles. I’ve also been thrilled to see Basim step out of his shell more. Though he continues to be slightly too nervous to approach others first and to participate out loud, he’s made several strong connections with other students. He’s proven himself to be a quiet leader that others look to for guidance in behavior and academics. I look forward to seeing Basim grow more comfortable in his leadership role and for Amani to become more confident in her literacy skills as she continues to gain the support she needs._

_Sincerely,_  
_Helen Watts_

Joe reads and rereads the email before releasing an explosive sigh. Nicky turns a concerned gaze towards Joe as he finishes changing for bed. “Everything okay Joe?” 

“Amani’s teacher got back to me. They’re gonna move forward with testing.” 

Nicky sits gently on the bed so he’s pressed beside Joe. “How do you feel?” Joe leans against Nicky and relaxes as he wraps steady arms around him. 

“Relieved that she’s getting help. Devastated that she needs it.” 

Nicky hums before pressing a tender kiss to Joe’s forehead. “Sono qui,” he murmurs, in lieu of empty words of reassurance. Joe slumps and curls closer to Nicky who slips the covers over them and slides down, guiding Joe with him.

Joe sighs as he’s wrapped properly in Nicky’s embrace, cocooned and safe. “She’s gonna be okay,” Joe rasps, hoping if he says it enough times he’ll believe it.

“With a father like you?" Warm lips press softly to his forehead. "I have no doubt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Mon nounours:_ friendly term of endearment meaning teddy bear 
> 
> Once again the pineapple thing is also based on true events. My family used to go to this Chinese restaurant that would give pineapple bites after a meal and my brothers and I would always have sword fights with the little picks and I couldn't resist. 
> 
> Since I'm making you all wait, here's a preview of next chapter: 
> 
> _**”He wears what??”**_ Fawzia hisses. 
> 
> _“I know,”_ Joe groans, thumping his head on the table. _“And the collection grows larger every day.”_
> 
> _“How could you let this happen?!”_
> 
>  _”I think I’m actually getting used to it?”_ Joe tries. “ _It’s...charming. It’s Nicky, you know?”_ Joe doesn’t need to lift his head to know that Fawzia is gazing at him with horror. 
> 
> “ _This is the man who refused to date anyone who wore joggers,”_ Fawzia comments with disbelief. 
> 
> _“Hey I was 18,”_ Joe protests, lifting his head to pout at his sister.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The al-Kaysanis arrive. Will Joe and Nicky survive? AKA 6,000 words of Joe being lovingly bullied by his older sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers! So I noticed another drop in comments and I’m not sure why. As always, if you have constructive feedback feel free to leave it in a comment and I am happy to take it in account for the future! On another note, this fic has finally hit 500 kudos??? Wow. Thank you all so much for your support, I truly appreciate it <3 <3 <3

Nicky paces through the kitchen before triple checking that he has all the ingredients for tonight and then returning to his pacing. “Are you okay Nicky Mouse?” Basim asks as he and Amani work on building a lego tower. Nicky grimaces. These children are far too astute for their own good. 

“Yes Basim I’m alright. Just want to make sure I have everything prepared for when your grandparents and auntie arrive,” Nicky replies through a strained smile.

“I wish we coulda picked them up at the airport,” Amani pouts. 

“I don’t believe there would’ve been enough room in the car for you patatina,” Nicky says for at least the third time. Amani humphs and honestly it shouldn’t be so adorable. 

With that resolved for at least the next ten minutes, Nicky returns to mentally reviewing the menu for tonight but startles when Topolina noses at his leg. “Need to go out girl?” he asks her, propping his hands on his hips. When she wags her tail Nicky releases a sigh. He loves owning a dog, absolutely loves it. Going out in the cold though? Not so much. “Bundle up cuccioli! Topolina needs to go out!” Nicky calls as he digs through the closet for their winter clothes. Fortunately, while Nicky is less than enthusiastic to go outside, the novelty of owning a dog still isn’t lost on the children and he has a feeling it never really will. 

“It’s my turn to walk her, right Nicky Mouse?” Basim asks hopefully as he reaches up for his jacket. Nicky hums, taking the leash off the hook while Amani and Basim slip on their winter coats, hats, and mittens. Once they’re all bundled up their little group braves the elements while Cow watches them go with smug superiority since she gets to stay where it’s heated. Then again Nicky may just be projecting. He bites down a whimper at the first blast of cold air, tightly gripping two mittened hands while Basim leads Topolina down their familiar path. She’s been incredibly good for both kids, but for Basim in particular. Whenever they go out in public and he gets nervous, Basim moves to Topolina and “takes care of her,” especially since she can be skittish herself. Having that responsibility and someone soft to pet and receive kisses from always relaxes him. It’s been a wonderful confidence builder and when the weather warms and they return to the park, Nicky is optimistic that Basim will grow more comfortable there as well. 

But for now, Nicky is going to concentrate on not freezing to death. Listening to Amani and Basim talk about all they want to do with their grandparents is a nice distractor at least. Though he realises that they haven’t mentioned Fawzia in their plans as much; she was in Doctors Without Borders for two years which must be a long time for kids as young as them. 

Once Topolina does her business, they turn around and head back to the apartment. He freezes when they reach the apartment door and hear voices trail from the inside however. Oh _fuck_ did they really arrive in the 10 minutes he went for a walk? Really? Shit he is not emotionally prepared for this. 

But Amani and Basim clearly are if the way they burst through the apartment and beeline to their grandparents is any indication. Nicky lingers awkwardly in the doorway as he unhooks Topolina’s leash and takes in the scene. 

Though he’s seen photos and of course has briefly cameoed in a few video calls, the picture is far different in person. Instead of the ponytail he recalls in a photo, Fawzia’s short-cropped hair reminds Nicky a lot of Andy’s, though her style choice is vastly different. While it’s a miracle if Quỳnh can coax Andy into anything fancier than a t-shirt, Fawzia clearly mirrors her brother when it comes to her fashion sense. Even though she’s only wearing leggings, knee-high boots, and an oversized brown and white striped jumper, Fawzia somehow makes it look...stylish? It must be the al-Kaysani magic. 

Meanwhile Leila is wearing a burgundy hijab with a matching blouse and trousers. Mehdi seems to be the only odd one out with messy hair, baggy pants, and a sweatshirt. At least Nicky can relate to _some_ one when it comes to fashion. Though Amani and Basim have been chattering to Mehdi and Leila who are crouched down and listening raptly, Fawzia is off to the side and busy glaring at Joe who looks like a kicked puppy. Speaking of puppies, Topolina is clearly overwhelmed by all the new people and moves to curl up in her blanket and snuggle the plushie that has officially become her “baby.”

Alright, one thing at a time. First to rescue Joe from his sister, then to check on Topolina. 

“Hi, I’m Nicky,” he says in greeting, reaching out his hand as he comes up to them. At this different angle, Nicky realises that the left side and back of Fawzia’s head is actually buzzed. 

She eyes Nicky’s hand for a weighted moment before grasping it in a firm shake. “Fawzia, but you already knew that,” she replies, brown eyes narrowed. 

Nicky swallows. “Joe has told me some great things about you,” he tries. 

“Wish I could say the same,” Fawzia drawls, making Nicky wince. Okay, not the best start. “Speaking of, I believe me and my brother have some catching up to do,” she adds with false cheer. Nicky opens his mouth but before he comes up with anything to say Fawzia is lugging a protesting Joe toward the door, snagging their coats on the way. 

“Wait! Shiitake mushrooms? Nicky shiitake mushrooms!” Joe calls out frantically. But before Nicky can recover Joe is dragged out of the door to face his fate. 

As the door slams shut Nicky turns to the remaining al-Kaysanis with a gulp while Mehdi and Leila trade glances that imply their children’s antics are expected. “Um. As-salam alaykom Mr. and Mrs. al-Kaysani,” Nicky stammers as he moves toward them. 

“Your pronunciation is coming along nicely,” Mehdi enthuses from where he’s lifted Amani up on his shoulders. 

“And please call us Leila and Mehdi,” Leila insists, squeezing Nicky’s hand while Basim hugs her leg.

“Oh. Okay,” Nicky says faintly before clearing his throat. “I know you must be hungry from your trip so I have some artichoke and red pepper roll-ups prepared and while you eat I'm going to get started on dinner I was thinking chicken with mushrooms and olives and a cob salad for a side with some baklava for dessert Joe said you like all of that but if you’re not in the mood-” Nicky cuts himself off as Leila frames his face with soft hands. 

“Our son already loves you Nicky,” she says gently. “There is no need to impress us.” Nicky clamps his mouth shut and blinks helplessly at her. Joe had said something similar each time Nicky scrapped the menu and began planning a new one but he can’t help himself. A glimmer that Nicky has seen so often in Joe’s eyes sparks in Leila’s. ”Besides, if you think you are keeping me out of this kitchen I have some sad news for you.”

Nicky smiles weakly. “I would be honored to cook with you.” He blanches. “Unless you’d like to cook alone?” 

Leila smiles, a mirror of Joe’s own. “I would love to cook with you Nicky.”

“We get to help too, right?” Amani asks, patting Mehdi’s head in some kind of mindless rhythm which he endures with fond amusement. 

Basim runs over to the hooks that hold their aprons. “Since Baba isn’t here you can use his apron!” He says, handing it to his grandmother. 

When Leila sees what’s written on it she releases a tittering laugh. “I would be delighted to wear this apron, azizi,” she says warmly. 

While Nicky and Leila discuss what they could make, Mehdi walks over to Topolina. “So you’re the lovely girl who has claimed my hard work for her own, hmm?” he prompts as he crouches down and examines the crocheted blanket that’s not as chewed-up as one might expect. Topolina‘s tail waves tentatively and Mehdi’s mock frown immediately melts away into a boyish grin. “Oh for a sweet girl like you I would give you anything in a heartbeat,” he croons. Nicky mentally rolls his eyes. So that’s where Joe gets his parenting practices from.

As Leila begins pulling out ingredients she pauses at a particular cabinet that makes him twitch. “I don’t mean to be critical Nicky but have you ever thought of rearranging your spices?” 

Nicky releases a groan. “Are you and Patricia trying to gang up on me?” He asks plaintively. 

Leila laughs, light and airy. “Perhaps we’re not trying to gang up on you, just trying to give you some sound advice.”

Nicky grumbles to himself, eyeing the spice cabinet mulishly. “Do what you want, but I’m not promising to keep it the same once you leave.” 

“Understood,” Leila replies, eyes shining with amusement before she begins pulling down some spices and rearranging others. “Now Yusuf told me that you’re a fan of a lot of baking and cooking shows.” When Nicky nods Leila turns to him with a raised brow. “Thoughts on the latest season of the Great British Bake Off?” 

“Dave should’ve won without a question,” Nicky replies automatically. He and Patricia have had a lot of rants about this. 

He bites his lip subconsciously at his brash response but Leila beams. “You know, I think we’re going to get along quite well,” she announces, nudging his shoulder with a playful grin.

Nicky ducks his head, smiling softly. “I’d like that.”

 *******

”So I see you’re taking advantage of having access to something other than instant coffee again,” Joe finally says weakly. Fawzia shoots him an unamused look as she sips her sugary concoction that can only be generously called a coffee. “I can explain?” he finally proposes when it’s clear Fawzia is going to wait him out. 

Setting her coffee aside, Fawzia leans forward on her forearms and pierces him with a stare that has Joe feeling like he’s 15 and she caught him with a smoke all over again. _”No, let me explain,”_ she says firmly. Oh fuck. _”You were holding off on telling us because this was a big step for you. You panicked when Mama and Baba accidentally found out- yes they told me about that- and then you continued to panic and **then** you feared it was gonna be like me and Maribel and then we landed here.”_ Joe winces at Fawzia’s blunt and very accurate synopsis. He hadn’t even thought about Maribel but it makes so much sense in retrospect. 

Fawzia and Maribel’s relationship was the definition of a whirlwind romance. They were entwined together the moment they met but it was too hot and heavy and burned out after six months. Fawzia was absolutely devastated afterwards and a month later applied for Doctors Without Borders so she could throw herself into work. It’s taken some time but in the brief moments Joe and Fawzia have been able to speak over the phone, he can tell she’s been in a far better headspace in the past year and a half. And now she’s come back to remind Joe how terrifyingly well she knows him.

 _“How do you do that? Just… read my mind?”_ Joe asks helplessly.

 _“Big sis powers,”_ she replies with a wink. 

_”I’m sorry Fa-fa,”_ Joe sighs, hanging his head. _”I wanted to tell you so many times and just...couldn’t.”_

He jumps as Fawzia leans forward to flick his forehead. _“You’re a dolt Yusuf but you’re a lovable dolt.”_

 _“Ewww Fawzia you love me?”_ Joe says with a giant grin, laughing when Fawzia shoves him away. 

_”Eat shit,”_ Fawzia grumbles as she tries to hide her smile. Crossing her arms she leans back in her chair with an assessing gaze. _”Now, you’re gonna pay for my second drink and tell me everything I’ve missed.”_ Resigning himself to paying far too much money for a sugar-overloaded drink, Joe sticks his tongue out and follows his older sister’s order. He knows better than to disobey her at this point in his life.

*******

Nicky thought the force of nature that is Patricia in the kitchen properly prepared him for Leila. He was wrong. Apparently there’s something far more nerve-racking cooking with the mother of his partner. “Hm. Needs more of a kick,” Leila says thoughtfully as she tastes the sauce. Nicky grimaces at the pronouncement while he finishes chopping some mushrooms and peppers. Leila decided to alter some of the meals to make them slightly more Tunisian-inspired which means that Nicky’s mouth will be on fire throughout dinner. 

And while Leila, Nicky, Amani, and Basim are cooking, Mehdi is banished to the living room. “Trust me Nicky, you do not want that man anywhere near the kitchen if you want to eat something edible,” Leila claimed with a teasing grin toward her husband who rolled his eyes good-naturedly before settling on the couch. Nicky’s heart clenched as he witnessed the light-hearted exchange. So this is what Joe’s childhood was like. 

He glances over to where Mehdi is now humming and working on a crocheted hat for Basim while Cow purrs in his lap. “I hadn’t measured correctly!” he bemoaned when he tried fitting the hats he brought with him on the children’s heads. Flung over the couch is the gorgeous blanket Mehdi crocheted with deep blue and purple yarn to replace Topolina’s. “Do you crochet?” Nicky startles at Leila’s question and turns to her guiltily. Instead of annoyance at his slacking Leila has a soft smile playing on her lips. 

“Um. No. It looks like a wonderful hobby though.” 

“Want to learn?” 

Nicky stutters, not quite sure what his response should be when Mehdi exclaims, “Did I hear someone wants to learn how to crochet?” Nicky whirls back to Mehdi who starts digging through what looks like a supply bag. “I know I have them here somewhere,” he mutters. 

“Mehdi keeps extra hooks and yarn on him at all times in case he runs into a ‘crochet buddy,’” Leila explains with amusement. Nicky raises his brows incredulously. 

“It happens more often than you think,” Mehdi defends. 

“We were on a train once and Mehdi began chatting with a lovely couple beside us. Turns out _both_ of them crochet and Mehdi bemoaned the fact that he had only packed one hook,” Leila says with a fond smile towards her husband.

“Never again,” Mehdi vows. Ah, so Joe’s flair for dramatics is also inherited from his father. Good to know. 

“I have enough assistants in here,” Leila insists, nodding to where Amani and Basim are working on some dough. “Why don’t you and Mehdi do some crocheting together?” Nicky can’t quite name the emotions roiling through his stomach at the suggestion. Some mix of hope and excitement and surprise and utter _terror_ that he’s going to fuck up any time now. Some of that must come through because Leila frowns and tilts Nicky’s head down so he meets her eye. “You do not need to, Nicky,” Leila says, her gently accented voice soothing in his ears. “Just a suggestion.” 

“Right,” Nicky says weakly before swallowing. He turns to all the food spread out and realises that most of it is prepped already and just needs to be put on the stove or oven. “If it’s not an imposition-” 

“What kind of colours are you thinking?” Mehdi calls before Nicky can even complete his sentence. As Mehdi begins to pull out various spools of yarn Nicky hesitates for one final moment until he notices the way Leila is fingering her towel. Preferring to avoid being chased out of the kitchen, at least on the first day, Nicky kisses Amani and Basim’s heads, shoots Leila a weak smile, and joins Mehdi on the couch. Well, he hasn't ruined anything yet. 

*******

_**”He wears what??”**_ Fawzia hisses. 

_“I know,”_ Joe groans, thumping his head on the table. _“And the collection grows larger every day.”_

_“How could you let this happen?!”_

_”I think I’m actually getting used to it?”_ Joe tries. “ _It’s...charming. It’s Nicky, you know?”_ Joe doesn’t need to lift his head to know that Fawzia is gazing at him with horror. 

“ _This is the man who refused to date anyone who wore joggers,”_ she says with disbelief.

 _“Hey I was 18,”_ Joe protests, lifting his head to pout at his sister. 

Fawzia shakes her head solemnly. _”You are whipped Yusuf,”_ she declares. Joe responds by sticking his tongue out like the mature adult he is, which only makes her grin. _“Clearly it wasn’t the lack of fashion sense that endeared him to you. So what was it?”_

Joe sits back to gather his thoughts. He started with all the more ridiculous sides of Nicky- his cargo pants, his passion for reality TV- to delay the inevitable. Actually talking to his sister about _feelings._ He just doesn’t want to rub salt in the wound since he has this amazing relationship and Fawzia has…

He winces when Fawzia flicks his forehead again. “ _I’m not a delicate flower Yusuf. I haven’t been sobbing into my pillow every night for the last two years,”_ she says crossly. When Joe looks at her with wide wet eyes Fawzia sighs and studies her drink. “ _I’ve been chasing after every girl who would give me a second glance for years Yusuf. I needed to get away from it all. And now…_ she shakes her head with a smile. “ _Fuck Yusuf I feel so much better about myself. I thought I needed to be in a relationship to be happy, thought it needed to be a defining part of my character but I don’t and it doesn’t.”_ She shrugs. “ _I still want to be in a relationship but I’m done actively hunting for it. I’m done begging for scraps. I deserve better than that."_ Fawzia’s eyes widen when she looks back up. “ _Oh fuck Yusuf are you crying?”_

“ _No,”_ he says as he wipes away a tear. “ _Just happy for you, you asshole.”_

Making a face, Fawzia says, _“Asshole? You’re so American.”_

“ _You’ll have to speak English at some point Fawzia,”_ Joe points out.

Fawzia scrunches up her face with distaste. “ _It’s a garbage language for garbage people,”_ she grumbles.

“ _You know what? I think you and Nico are gonna get along well.”_

*******

Nicky grits his teeth as his knot slips off the hook again. Mehdi makes it look so _simple_ and Nicky can’t make one goddamned chain stitch. Stupid. Gentle hands come into his view as Mehdi guides Nicky through the motions once more. “Patience Nicolò, this isn’t a race. Deep breaths.” Nicky’s hands freeze at that particular name passing Mehdi’s lips. In their last video call Joe used that name and when Mehdi and Leila asked which he would prefer he stuttered and stammered before shrugging and mumbling that either would work. This is the first time he’s actually heard either of them use it though; not even Patricia calls him that. 

Nicky closes his eyes tightly as he takes deep breaths. Between that name and the familiar feel of failure, he’s finding his past and present colliding once more. When he opens them again, Nicky turns and looks at Mehdi to remind himself that this man is world’s away from his father. Where his eyes were cold and distant, Mehdi's are warm and concerned. Where he was clean-shaven and his mouth was severe Mehdi’s bushy beard frames a mouth that smiles easily and often. Where his brows were always in a flat line of apathy Mehdi’s are now knitted in worry. And all at once a wave of humiliation crashes over him. “Perhaps we pause on crocheting, yes? Yusuf told us you do calligraphy? I would love to learn,” Mehdi remarks lightly. 

Nicky’s cheeks burn with embarrassment and he doesn’t know whether to feel pathetically grateful or utterly humiliated. He’s about to protest regardless when Leila calls, “Please teach my husband how to write in something better than his...oh dear what’s that word? Rooster writing?” Leila pauses where she was mixing in a pot to frown into space. 

Nicky furrows his brow in concentration, trying to figure out the word as he draws a blank as well. “I know it’s some kind of bird…” 

“I think the word you are looking for is chicken scratch, roh albi,” Mehdi says with amusement as he tucks his crocheting supplies aside. 

“This is why I hate the English language,” Nicky rants. “Chicken scratch? What does that even mean?” 

Nicky falters when Mehdia and Leila chuckle. He relaxes when their smiles are fond and not teasing however. “Oh I think you and our daughter will have much to talk about,” Leila declares. Nicky smiles shyly. Speaking of...he looks towards the kitchen where Leila is turning off the burners. He should probably check on Joe. 

“I’m happy to teach you calligraphy another time and give crocheting a try again but I don’t want dinner to grow cold,” Nicky says with a nod towards the kitchen. 

“Inshallah those two troublesome children will return before their mother is forced to hunt them down,” Mehdi says with an amused chuckle. Desperate to keep the peace for at _least_ the first night, Nicky pulls out his phone. 

**Me** _Checking to see if you’re still alive_

 **Joe** _Just barely_

**Joe** _And I should ask you the same_

**Me** _I’m doing fine but neither of you will be if you don’t get your asses over here ASAP_

 **Joe** _oh SHIT tell her we promise to do all the dishes if she doesn’t kill us!!!_

Grinning at his phone Nicky says, “They’re on their way and promise to do the dishes.” 

“I expected nothing less,” Leila huffs, snapping her towel in the air. 

*******

_“You can interrogate me more tonight but if you don’t want Mama to kill us we gotta go **now,”**_ Joe says firmly as he scrambles for his coat and gloves. 

When Fawzia checks her phone her eyes widen at the time displayed. _”Fuuuuuuuuck,”_ she hisses, chasing Joe out of the door. 

By the time they skid through the apartment Mehdi and Nicky are serving out what looks like some kind of chicken dish with the help of Basim and Amani while Leila lounges in one cushioned chair. Mehdi raises his brow as the door slams shut. “Nice of you to join us.” 

“Khanfoussti, was it truly necessary to steal my son before I could properly say hello?” Leila asks with exasperated amusement as she walks towards Joe to kiss his cheek. ”Aaslema habibi,” she says warmly. 

“Aaslema Mama,” Joe says, drawing her into a tight hug. 

“Make room, make room,” Mehdi prods as he squeezes into the hug while Basim and Amani do as well. Joe breathes in the mingling scents of his family and closes his eyes, relishing this moment he doesn’t get to experience too often.

“Um, Yusuf? Where are we all gonna eat?” Joe pulls out of the hug to turn to his sister sheepishly. Right, they don’t really have the table space. 

“Um-” he starts with a scratch of his head. 

“The kids need to sit on the couch so they can eat off the coffee table and Joe and I are fine with the floor. The three of you can either share the couch with Basim and Amani and use the arm chair too or eat at the kitchen table and talk to us from there,” Nicky rattles off like he’s prepared for this question. Joe releases a breath. Alhamdulillah Nicky can still stay calm under pressure even when facing Joe’s slightly intimidating family. 

“Since I was the one working in the kitchen I think I get to have this lovely cushioned chair,” Leila declares as she resettles into the one arm chair they still have. 

“Yusuf I really think it’s time to reconsider buying a home, no? You would surely have enough space for a larger table if you did,” Mehdi remarks while he and Fawzia bring the food in from the kitchen. 

Joe balks and glances furtively at Nicky who is looking at him wide-eyed. “I-well- I think-” 

“Baba I think you broke him,” Fawzia grins, poking Joe’s forehead and laughing when he slaps her away with an irritable scowl. 

“Astaghfurallah they are like children,” Leila bemoans with a shake of her head while Basim and Amani giggle. 

“Baba you’re silly!” Amani exclaims.

“And how are my little niece and nephew doing?” Fawzia asks, crouching down in front of them. But while Amani declares that she’s not little, Basim shrinks against Joe’s leg. 

“Do you remember your auntie?” Joe asks Basim, who shakes his head leading Fawzia’s grin to fade slightly. Joe bites his lip. Two years is a long time for kids this young. “Hmm well the first thing to know is that anything your auntie says about your baba is a lie,” Joe says in a conspiratorial whisper, and, as expected, that renews Fawzia’s mirth. 

“Don’t listen to him ya saghroun, I only speak the truth,” Fawzia claims with a wink while Joe scoffs at the blatant lie. 

The ice properly broken, Amani climbs into Fawzia’s arms who carries her to the couch where their dinners are waiting. Meanwhile, Basim buries himself into Joe’s chest when he crouches down to his level. “Hey, I think Topolina is feeling pretty nervous with all the new people. Think you can keep her company while we set up dinner habibi?” Joe suggests, brushing a hand through Basim’s curls. Basim nods silently before slipping his hand in Joe’s and walking over to where Topolina is curled up with her blanky and baby. Huh, maybe she actually _could_ use some comfort and company. 

Joe settles onto the ground with Basim in his lap as his son pets Topolina softly. He glances up to Nicky with a smile when he comes by with their two meals, Basim’s chicken already cut up the way he prefers. “Thanks ya amar,” he murmurs, craning up to peck Nicky’s cheek. 

“Eww we don’t need to see that Yusuf!” Fawzia calls. 

“I see what you mean about why she can’t meet Andy and Quỳnh,” Nicky murmurs, causing Joe to snort. 

Keeping himself turned so he can face his family while they eat, Joe says, “Think you can introduce yourself _properly_ to my partner now Fawzia?”

Rolling her eyes, Fawzia waves from where Amani is seated on her lap while they both eat. “Hey Nicky. So I heard you hate the English language too, huh?” 

Joe facepalms. “Why are you like this,” he mutters. 

“You know you love it!” Fawzia grins. 

Pressing himself against Joe Nicky glances at him questioningly but Joe only shrugs, knowing that it's hopeless not to humour her. “Sì,” Nicky says slowly. “It’s certainly not my _favourite_ language.” Joe snorts and rolls his eyes. That’s putting it mildly. Nicky’s “I hate English” rants are Joe’s favourite type of Nicky rant. It helps that they often come after Nicky either forgets a word in English or says entirely the wrong one. Joe will forever remember the moment Nicky burst into their room while Joe was grading work and said wildly, “I forget the name for the dust sucker!” Joe blinked at Nicky dumbly for half a minute before saying, “Do you mean the vacuum cleaner?” So now to Nicky’s utter chagrin, their household calls the vacuum a dust sucker. 

But clearly today Nicky is trying to make a good impression on Joe’s family by keeping his ranting in check. Like he didn’t witness the time Joe’s father ranted about the limited options of yarn at the craft store during their video call two weeks ago. 

Fawzia scoffs at Nicky’s understatement. “It’s a lot more than not my favourite language. I’d go as far as to say-” 

“Children,” Joe sings, glaring at his sister. Fawzia blinks down at Amani happily munching on an olive before clamping her mouth shut. “ _Any_ way, me and Nico have a couple of activities planned this week if anyone would like to veto them now ‘cause you only have one chance to do so,” Joe announces. 

“Just promise us there will be no binoculars involved this time,” Leila pleads. 

Joe grimaces. In retrospect bird watching was one of his lesser inspired ideas. “Yep nothing like that!” he assures. 

“Some possibilities are ice skating, snow tubing, a museum, a movie, and of course some fun board games,” Nicky suggests and Joe has to clench his jaw to keep from groaning. He was really hoping to omit one of those items from that list. 

“Ice skating? But we could _never_ get you to do that Yusuf!” Mehdi exclaims. 

“Remember when he promised to do the dishes for a week just so he wouldn’t have to go?” Fawzia snorts, snickering at the way Joe glares at her while Nicky gapes at him. Yeah...when he said that he _never_ went Joe didn’t really mention the innumerable times he found a way _out_ of going. If humans aren’t born with knives on their feet what kind of _lunatic_ thought it would be a good idea to run and spin on _ice_? 

“Nicky Mouse and Auntie Andy and Auntie Quỳnh are really really good and they’re teaching us!” Amani says. Joe and Nicky glance at each other with wide eyes while Basim whispers, “I like ice skating.” 

“I’m glad habibi,” Joe says faintly as Fawzia’s eyes narrow. 

“Who are these aunties I don’t have the pleasure to know?” she asks in a tone that promises pain. 

“Um- just Nicky’s friends-” 

“Uncle Booker calls them Nicky Mouse’s lesbian moms,” Amani cuts in helpfully. Joe facepalms while Nicky hangs his head. One day. One day he will kill that man. 

“They’re not actually my moms,” Nicky says weakly when an awkward silence has passed and Joe refuses to look at his sister for fear of what her expression will show. 

“They own the adult drink place Nicky Mouse works at and they’re really nice even though Auntie Andy pretends that she’s not but she sneaks me and Basi treats when Baba and Nicky aren’t looking-” Amani cuts herself off as Joe whips around to look at her. 

“So _that’s_ how you keep getting sugared-up!” he exclaims. 

“Oh we will be having some _words,”_ Nicky vows darkly.

“Any reason these two women didn’t come up in our previous conversation dear brother?” Fawzia asks with a dangerous glint in her eye.

Recovering from this latest addition of Booker’s horrible influence on his children Joe sputters out, “We were talking about Nicky! You weren’t asking about his friends!”

“His _lesbian_ friends,” she emphasises with an arched brow. 

“Well technically Andy is bi and-” Joe falters when Fawzia’s other brow raises.

“Enough children, eat your meal before it gets cold,” Leila tuts with a regal wave of her fork. As Joe and Fawzia grumble and obey her order, Leila glances between Amani and Basim. “Now Amani and Basim tell us, what do _you_ want us to do this week?” 

*******

Despite the somewhat rocky start to the evening, Nicky is relieved to find that the rest of the night goes smoothly. Even with the glares Fawzia shoots her brother, conversation remains tame and friendly with only a few passive aggressive remarks. After dessert and bedtime stories from their grandparents, Basim and Amani go down easily while the adults drink some tea in the living room and engage in some idle chatter. 

“I think it’s about time we head back to our hotel,” Mehdi eventually comments with a sigh and a yawn. “Another reason to consider buying a house, yes Yusuf?” 

“Wallahi Baba I get it,” Joe groans. “We can talk about it later.” 

Chuckling, Mehdi moves to pull Nicky into a hug to his utter shock. “It was great properly meeting you Nicky. I look forward to learning some calligraphy.” 

“And I’d like to retry crocheting too,” Nicky stutters as he awkwardly returns the hug. 

He ducks his head as Mehdi beams. “Sounds like a plan.” 

“Even if your spice arrangements leave something to be desired, it was lovely cooking with you Nicky,” Leila says as she follows her husband’s lead. 

“Um yeah I’d like to cook with you more if you’d be interested,” Nicky rambles as he tries to figure out what to do with his hands. 

Leila smiles softly and kisses Nicky’s cheek. “Wonderful.” The couple move to hug Joe and Fawzia and murmur something in their ears that makes the siblings protest loudly. 

Once they head out, Nicky and Joe turn to Fawzia who is now lounging on the couch. She’s staying on their couch during the visit since it pulls out into a bed (something Joe failed to mention the first few times Nicky passed out on it) and Mehdi and Leila find it too harsh on their backs. “Another reason to get a home, yes?” Nicky can imagine Mehdi saying, making him snort. 

While Fawzia and Joe shoot him a questioning glance Nicky leans against the wall. “So Nicky,” Fawzia drawls. “What’s a nice Italian man like you doing with my fool of a brother?” She chuckles as Joe sits on the couch and shoves at her. “What, is this couch too small for you? Go buy another with your house,” Fawzia teases as she shoves him back. Nicky settles in the arm chair with a soft smile to watch the siblings squabble. He’s never really seen this side of Joe, though his interactions with Booker come fairly close. It’s rather endearing watching him act younger than his years as he endures the teasing of his older sister. 

“It was many things,” Nicky says in answer to Fawzia’s question, making her pause her current efforts to get Joe in a chokehold which is highly entertaining to witness since she’s a good head shorter than Joe. “And I’m happy to tell you if you’ll kindly release my partner,” he adds with amusement. 

Fawzia sizes him up. “You drive a tough bargain Nicky,” she declares before obediently releasing Joe who immediately shoves her away. Nicky rolls his eyes fondly as this leads to another wrestling match which ultimately ends with Fawzia sitting on Joe. Well, Nicky supposes this is an improvement.

“First it was seeing him with Basim and Amani. The way he could make them smile and how much he cared about their well-being had me nearly swooning.” Nicky smiles down at Joe who is gazing at him adoringly even as he remains pinned under Fawzia. His expression is subsequently replaced by disgust when Topolina investigates what her father is up to and licks across his mouth. “Don’t worry Topolina. Your papà is fine, he’s just being his usual ridiculous self,” Nicky remarks fondly. 

At her name Topolina turns and trots over to Nicky so she can beg for rubs. “Spoiled girl,” Nicky croons as he scratches under her neck and behind her ears. When she lies down and rolls on her back Nicky huffs out, “ _Incredibly_ spoiled,” before he settles on the ground to properly scratch her belly. 

“And what was the second thing?” Fawzia asks as she slaps Joe’s flailing hands away without looking at him and clamps a hand over his mouth to shut up what Nicky is guessing are several insults in Arabic or Dutch. 

Nicky hums contemplatively, knowing better than to intervene. “The way he spreads joy despite all he’s gone through. The way he can make me smile nearly effortlessly.” He shrugs. “His heart, his humour, his laugh.” He smiles up at Fawzia sheepishly. “How could I not fall in love?” 

“Damn, you put Joe’s poetry to shame,” Fawzia remarks, sounding impressed. 

Nicky shrugs, gazing into Joe’s warm eyes as the man stops his attempts at escape to stare at Nicky. “In Joe’s words, he awakens the poet in me.”

Fawzia blows a loud raspberry. “You two saps clearly deserve each other. Get outta my room before you give me a cavity,” she complains. Joe clearly has something to say about that but is muffled by Fawzia’s hand over his mouth. 

“I think what Joe is trying to say is we would love to give you some space but he can’t really do that pinned under you,” Nicky points out wryly. 

“That’s kind of you to think my brother would say something so thoughtful but that was definitely him cursing me out,” Fawzia remarks before making a face as Joe licks along her palm. 

“Yusuf,” Nicky gently chastises, lips twitching at the injured gaze Joe turns on him.

“Wait while I have him occupied and there are no little ears around, how do you _actually_ feel about the English language?” Fawzia asks with a greedy glint in her eyes. 

Nicky takes a long sip of his tea. “It’s the unholy love child of far too many languages and I wish it would die in a fire,” he replies mildly. 

“ _I knew it!”_ Fawzia crows with a victorious grin. “No one with an accent that thick after living in the states for so long is speaking English willingly.”

Nicky feels himself blush as Joe renews his frantic muffled protests. He recognises that fire in Joe’s eyes. It’s his “I have a righteous rant about the man I love” look. “Yusuf happens to find my accent charming,” Nicky translates, quirking his lips up. 

Fawzia gags exaggeratedly. “You two are disgusting.”

“Well I’m sorry to tell you this but you’ll have to endure our disgusting love for the rest of the week,” Nicky says gravely. 

“Nah, I’m just gonna hang with your lesbian moms,” Fawzia replies with a smirk which only grows larger when Nicky’s eyes widen in response. 

“They’re no one special,” Nicky protests frantically. He’s only spent a few hours with Fawzia but he finally understands Joe’s panic regarding them potentially meeting now. “They’re old! You’ll be bored!” 

“I wonder how these fine ladies will feel about you calling them old,” Fawzia muses as she studies her nails. Nicky gulps. Oh fuck. He’s dead. The way Joe looks up at him mournfully confirms his fate. Unless they can distract Fawzia enough so she doesn’t follow up about meeting them? Nicky releases a defeated sigh instead of following that thought process further however. He’s known Fawzia less than a day but he can tell that such a plan would be futile. 

His constitution brightens at the sight of Joe’s renewed attempts to kick his sister however. But Fawzia must get tired of her brother’s flailing because after a moment she stands with a stretch. “Fiiiine, I’m gonna get into something more comfortable and wash up while you can make my bed,” Fawzia declares. Joe says something in rapid-fire Arabic as he straightens that causes Fawzia to gasp dramatically. “Don’t make me wash your mouth out with soap Yusuf,” Fawzia warns, waggling her finger at Joe and just managing to avoid it being bitten by her sullen brother. 

As she grabs her bag and saunters away, Joe pouts up at Nicky who can’t help but grin. “Do you need saving from your big bad sister?” Nicky asks fondly, propping his chin in his palm. 

“You were no help,” Joe grumbles as he crosses his arms and sinks further down the couch. 

Nicky arches a brow. “I would start making her bed if I were you,” he says idly. “Don’t wanna keep her waiting.” Joe clearly contemplates the prospect of ignoring his older sister’s orders before releasing a dramatic sigh and standing up to find the sheets and pillows in their storage. Nicky takes a dainty sip of his tea. Well, it’s certainly going to be an eventful week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The vacuum anecdote is stolen from this tumblr post https://luminarai.tumblr.com/post/638957362545311744/having-previously-lived-with-a-changing-cast-of-12
> 
> As-salam alaykom: a formal greeting to say hello  
> Azizi: my dear, term of endearment for a child  
> roh albi: soul of my heart  
> Inshallah: God-willing  
> Khanfousst: my beetle (term of endearment towards a child)  
> Astaghfurallah: Ask for God’s forgiveness  
> ya saghroun: “ô little” a term of endearment for a child
> 
> Below are also a few tumblrs I’ve been using as a reference/resource for the little Arabic I use on top of other external websites. Of course, please correct me if I still get something wrong!  
> https://historic-old-guard-lover.tumblr.com/search/arabic  
> https://arabskaya-devushka.tumblr.com/tagged/tunisian-arabic  
> https://lucyclairedelune.tumblr.com/search/ARABIC


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day two of the al-Kaysani visit features Joe vs. ice, Nicky vs. crocheting, and bonding times on all sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your continued support, it means the world! 
> 
> I keep meaning to mention this and keep forgetting but I realised belatedly that if Amani and Basim are in 1st grade and their birthdays were in October, then they would’ve actually turned 7, not 6 this year. I’m gonna go back and change their ages but honestly it doesn’t change my characterisation of them, it’s just really to keep myself from having a headache in the future.

“It’s official Nicky,” Fawzia announces as she takes another bite of her french toast. “You’re my new favourite.” Nicky ducks his head with a grin as Joe gasps dramatically and clutches his heart. 

“But Auntie, Baba says it’s not nice to pick favourites,” Amani says with a frown while she plays with a strawberry. It’s taken a year but Nicky and Joe have finally convinced the kids to try fruit that isn’t in a smoothie. It’s been...a process. 

Joe grins victoriously while Fawzia balks. “That’s right Amani, and your Auntie wants to set a good example, right?” Joe prompts, staring at his sister with a challenging glint in his eye. Based off of the look she shoots him, this is far from over. But for now, Fawzia returns to her breakfast, mumbling in agreement. 

“This is certainly delicious, where did you get the bread for this?” Leila asks as she takes another bite. 

Nicky bites his lip but Joe cuts in. “Nico baked it himself! It’s challah bread ‘cause he insists it’s the best bread to use for french toast.” 

“Well it’s true,” Nicky mutters, a smile flickering across his face as Joe nudges his shoulder playfully. They’re seated on the floor again and though Mehdi’s comments are terrifying, Nicky is starting to understand why he keeps insisting that Joe buy a house. They are _definitely_ not at that stage yet though. 

“Nicky Mouse is the best baker,” Basim whispers as he curls up in Nicky’s lap, still feeling rather shy in front of his aunt. 

“Oh? What’s your favourite thing he’s ever made?” Fawzia says softly as she leans forward from where she’s sitting in the arm chair. She’s been working to make Basim feel a bit more comfortable last night and this morning and it’s starting to work. Basim pets Topolina for a long moment before announcing, “I like his cakes.” 

“I like his brownies,” Amani cuts in. Nicky shoots her a proud smile for waiting until her brother spoke. That’s something they’ve been working on with her when Basim is struggling with his words, though she’s usually good at it. Amani beams at Nicky and kicks her legs back and forth from where she’s seated in Mehdi’s lap on the couch. 

“Hmm I guess I’ll need to try some of this cake and brownies in that case,” Fawzia hums. 

“And Baba can make pancakes ‘cause Baba’s the best at making pancakes,” Basim adds, raising his eyes tentatively to Fawzia. 

“Oh yeah? What makes them so yummy?” she prompts. 

“Baba makes faces and fun shapes,” he explains with a toothy grin. 

“Uh huh that’s how Nicky Mouse got his name ‘cause Baba made a pancake for him that looked like _Mickey_ Mouse,'' Amani says excitedly. Nicky’s heart warms at the memory of that snow day. It seems so long ago but that was one of the moments when he realised he was irrevocably gone for this ridiculous man. 

“I had been wondering how you got that particular name,” Mehdi chuckles. 

“Yeah, I have a feeling I’ll be stuck with that name for the rest of my life,” Nicky says solemnly, kissing Basim’s head and winking at Amani to show he’s teasing. He falters at the way all four adult al-Kaysanis turn to stare at him though. Furrowing his brow, Nicky replays what he said in his head before gulping. Right, he just indicated that he’ll have this name for the rest of his life, didn’t he? Oh fuck. 

“So what are we thinking about doing for today, hm?” Leila asks to break the awkward silence. 

Nicky breathes a sigh of relief and shoots her a grateful glance. “Well, since you all seemed so interested in it I’m thinking we could go ice skating?” Nicky suggests, biting his lip to keep from grinning at the look of horror crossing Joe’s face while the kids cheer. “Don’t worry Joe, you can hold my hand,” Nicky murmurs in his ear. 

Joe turns to press his forehead to Nicky’s shoulder. “You’re gonna owe me so much hot chocolate," he says darkly. "So much.” 

*******

_”Why_ did I let you convince me to do this?” Joe moans as he clutches onto Nicky’s arms and steps on the rink. 

“I think Basim and Amani were actually the ones who did the convincing,” Nicky remarks lightly. 

“Their eyes are lethal,” Joe mutters. 

“Holy shit Yusuf you’re actually on the ice!” Fawzia exclaims as she skates literal circles around them. “I honestly didn’t think you would do it.” She raises her brows as she does some fancy footwork and continues to circle around them. “I’m impressed, Nicky.” As she skates away Joe raises his middle finger before frantically turning it into a wave when Basim and Amani look up from where they’re going through the motions with their grandparents. 

“Fawzia has some impressive moves,” Nicky comments while he coaxes Joe further onto the rink. 

“She did speed skating when she was a teenager,” Joe explains through gritted teeth, glaring at the way Fawzia is fluidly moving through the crowd of skaters. 

“Hm. That would do it,” Nicky muses. “All the more reason she can’t meet Andy and Quỳnh.” 

An image of all three women racing across the rink crosses Joe’s mind. Yep. Amani _cannot_ witness that. 

“I’m so proud of you Yusuf!” Leila calls, causing Joe’s cheeks to burn with embarrassment. 

“Yeah look at you Yusuf, all grown up!” Fawzia croons as she skates within a hand's reach. Growling, Joe attempts to launch at her, forgetting once more that he’s on ice and yelping as he falls on his ass. Joe glares up at the sky as Nicky peers down at him, biting his lip to keep from laughing while Fawzia stops right at Joe’s head so some ice sprays on him. “Aww Yusuf trying to race me?” she asks, crouching down to smirk at him. 

“One day. I will destroy you,” Joe says calmly. 

While Fawzia scoffs, the rest of his family make it to him. “You okay Baba?” Amani asks.

“Yes habibti,” Joe sighs. “Your auntie just caused me to fall.” 

“Oh do _not_ blame me for this zakkenwasser,” Fawzia exclaims. 

“Fawzia al-Kaysani,” Leila scolds, hands on her hips. “There are children. Now help your brother up.” Joe smiles smugly at his sister while she releases a dramatic huff and pulls him bodily up. His sense of victory quickly dissipates however as he releases a squeak and latches onto his sister’s arm to prevent himself from falling once more. As he does however, Leila hooks her arm through Nicky’s. “Come Nicky, let’s leave my troublesome children on their own, yes?” 

Joe watches Nicky skate away with morose resignation, knowing better than to protest. Mehdi chuckles before guiding his children who are both far too happy to abandon their poor father away. Traitors. _“If you let me fall I won’t let you near Nicky’s cooking for the rest of your visit,”_ Joe says as calmly as he can, begrudgingly accepting the fact that his life is currently in his asshole sister’s hands. 

_“C’mon Yusuf I'm not **that** evil,”_ Fawzia scoffs. 

Joe narrows his eyes. _“March 13th, 1997.”_

 _“Oh you deserved that!”_ Fawzia protests as she slowly moves forward. 

Joe tightens his grip with a whimper. _“I was 10!”_

 _“And you knew better than to touch my shoes,”_ Fawzia replies serenely. Joe grumbles, studying Fawzia’s feet as he tries to copy her movements and recall how he did this last time. _“I can’t believe you’re actually skating right now,”_ she remarks with amusement. _“All the years we’ve begged you to and all it took were a pair of soulful eyes and you caved?”_

_“Try fighting the power of Nicky, Basim, **and** Amani’s puppy eyes at once and come talk to me,”_ Joe grouches. 

He begins to relax as he finds each step comes easier and smoother and soon a companionable silence falls between them while the siblings skate arm in arm. _“It’s good to see you in love again Yusuf,”_ Fawzia murmurs after a long moment, ducking her head.

Joe swallows. _“Yeah,”_ he rasps. _“Wasn’t really expecting it.”_

 _“You never do.”_ Joe chances a look at Fawzia but she’s turned towards where Basim and Amani are skating with Nicky while their parents watch and film. 

_“You’re gonna be next, eh?”_ Joe prompts, nudging Fawzia’s shoulder and yelping when that causes him to over balance. 

Fawzia snickers as she catches Joe and steadies him once more. _“You’re a mess Yusuf,”_ she says with a fond smile, flicking his forehead. Joe pouts at her before taking another tentative step forward. While they get back in the flow she shrugs. _“Like I said, I’m gonna take my time. There’s probably a hot lady out there for me.”_

_“I **know** there’s a hot lady out there for you,”_ Joe declares adamantly. 

“Awww Yusuf,” Fawzia grins. 

“Are we getting along again children?” Mehdi queries, skating smoothly beside them. 

“Yes Baba,” Joe and Fawzia groan in tandem.

“Lovely! Then may I have this dance dear daughter?” He asks, reaching out a hand for Fawzia while an upbeat song begins playing over the loudspeaker. 

Joe’s eyes widen in panic and he tightens his grip on his human crate. “You can do it Yusuf,” Fawzia coaxes. “I believe in you!” 

Reluctantly, Joe peels his fingers off his sister’s arm until he’s standing on his own. “Good job Joe!” Nicky calls as he skates towards him. Once Nicky is in arm’s reach Joe latches onto him with a whimper. Nicky huffs out a breath of laughter. “Ridiculous man,” he says fondly. 

“A ridiculous man you love?” Joe says weakly. 

Nicky presses a kiss to his forehead. “Absolutely.”

*******

“How did you get into crocheting?” Nicky asks. He’s on his second day of crocheting and he’s approaching it with a far calmer mindset than yesterday. With Mehdi’s guidance he’s even made a successful slip knot. Finally.

As Nicky focuses on making the correct loops Mehdi hums. “I was a fairly restless child growing up. Could hardly sit still.” 

“Still can’t!” Leila calls from where she’s playing “goldfish” with Fawzia, Amani, and Basim while Joe does Amani’s hair and commentates. 

Mehdi blows a raspberry and waves his hand dismissively. “One day my teacher came in with a hook and yarn and offered them to me, said that I might like it,” he explains while he deftly weaves blue stars into Amani’s bright yellow hat. “From that moment on I started doing it whenever I needed to sit for long periods of time. Through lectures, meetings, long train and plane rides. If I can get away with it, you can find me crocheting.”

“Huh,” Nicky says, recalling the countless times he’s found Joe sketching, whether it’s on a napkin in a restaurant or in a sketchbook he slipped into his jacket when Nicky wasn’t looking. “You and your son are quite alike, aren’t you?”

“Don’t let Leila hear you say that,” Mehdi chuckles. “We argue all the time over what traits our children have inherited from the both of us.” He leans closely to Nicky. “Joe gets his disorganization from his mother,” he says in a conspiratorial whisper before yelping when he’s pelted by a goldfish. 

“Don’t listen to the lies my husband tells you,” Leila says primly without turning to them. 

“And Fawzia gets her aim from her too,” Mehdi grumbles while Fawzia shoots him a vicious grin. 

Companionable silence falls between them again but after a moment Mehdi says in a careful tone, “May I ask how you took up calligraphy?”

Nicky swallows. He should’ve expected this. Taking a steady breath, Nicky focuses on the loops he’s currently working on. “I had a…less than ideal childhood. Calligraphy was the one form of expression that was truly mine.”

“Ah.” He’s pathetically grateful when Mehdi doesn’t ask any follow-up questions. Even though Joe was far more understanding than he has any right to be doesn’t mean that his parents would be the same. “Perhaps we can take a break and you can take me through some of the first steps?” 

Nicky hesitates on the loop he was working on. “Um. Yeah if you really wanna learn,” Nicky stammers. 

He places his work down reverently before getting up and moving to the bin labeled “Nicky Mouse.” Mehdi follows him and settles down at the table. Selecting two pieces of paper and two simple black pens, Nicky joins him. “First you need to make sure you’re holding the pen right,” Nicky explains, slipping a paper and pen in front of Mehdi and sitting beside him before demonstrating how to hold the pen. Mehdi tilts his head and adjusts his grip so it mirrors Nicky. “Now, calligraphy is all about your up and down strokes. We’re gonna start with just doing the alphabet.” 

Nicky slowly creates an “A” before pausing so Mehdi can do the same. The result is...less than perfect. Nicky bites his lip to keep from grinning. “Well. Not quite what I was going for,” Mehdi muses, brows furrowed as he studies the smudged blob. 

“You were pressing a bit too hard,” Nicky explains. “Just let the pen guide you.” He demonstrates with just an up and down stroke over and over and Mehdi carefully follows until his strokes look slightly more legible. “There you go!” he exclaims. 

Mehdi grins as he retries writing the “A” and finds that it looks more like a letter this time. “You’re a fantastic teacher Nicky,” he enthuses. 

Nicky ducks his head with a soft smile. “Thanks.” 

They continue to work in silence as Nicky walks Mehdi through the rest of the alphabet. As he does Nicky finds himself relaxing. Despite Mehdi’s more exuberant personality, there’s something calming about his presence. He’s easygoing, quick to smile, warm and gentle. The antithesis of Nicky’s father. 

“Are you okay Nicky?” (He also hasn’t called Nicky Nicolò since that first time and Nicky doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.) 

Nicky blinks at where he’s been letting his ink blot. “Yes, sorry,” he says with a furtive smile. Swallowing, Nicky writes an “M” and waits for Mehdi to do the same. “I just…” he takes a deep breath. Is he really about to do this? “Joe’s lucky to have you as a father,” he finally murmurs. Nicky shrugs helplessly. “I...I enjoy spending time with you.” 

A solid hand squeezes Nicky’s shoulder and remains there. Eventually, Nicky turns so he meets Mehdi’s warm gaze. “The feeling is very mutual Nicky. I can already tell you’re a wonderful addition to our family.” 

Nicky’s throat closes up and he blinks rapidly in an attempt to keep from making an utter fool of himself. He’s only spent two days with Mehdi and he’s already calling Nicky family? “I-” he swallows as his words dry up. _”Thank you”_ he finally stammers out. 

Mehdi beams at his stumbling use of Arabic. “You’re gonna be a fluent speaker before you know it!” 

Nicky ducks his head with a smile. “I’m not sure about that. But thank you.”

*******

“This is delicious Mama,” Joe hums. 

“Well, your Nicky helped,” Leila comments with a wink towards the man in question as he hurries out the door with a frantic wave. 

“I’ve never seen a man eat so quickly,” Mehdi chuckles. 

“That’s why we both have multiple warning alarms for work. Otherwise we would never get to where we need on time,” Joe says with a fond smile. Even with the alarms there have been some close calls on particularly cozy mornings or evenings. 

Nicky was going to take the whole week off but Joe talked him out of it. As much as he would love to have Nicky spend as much time with his family as possible and Andy and Quỳnh adore him enough to give him the extra time off, Joe knew that this visit would cause Nicky some undue stress. Having time to step away from the pressure he’s put on himself and getting a chance to check in with Andy and Quỳnh is going to benefit Nicky whether he wants to admit it or not. 

“ _Sometimes we get to be Baba and Nicky Mouse’s alarm too!”_ Amani pipes up.

“ _You’ve been teaching your children right Yusuf,”_ Fawzia declares. “ _Speaking Arabic the moment they can get away with not speaking English. I’m proud of you.”_ Joe rolls his eyes. If Nicky and Fawzia can’t find anything else to bond over, their mutual hatred of the English language will keep that relationship going. 

“ _Your Auntie used to be your Baba’s alarm clock too,”_ Leila comments with amusement.

“ _I’ll give you two some tips,”_ Fawzia promises with a wink to Basim who beams up at her. Between skating with her this morning and playing “goldish” earlier, Basim has started to grow more comfortable around Fawzia fortunately and is currently tucked beside her. By tomorrow night Joe is sure she’ll be added to the bedtime story line up. 

“ _Do not put ideas in my children’s heads!”_ Joe protests. He leans towards where Amani and Basim are seated on the couch. “ _Don’t listen to your Auntie little monsters, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about,”_ he whispers with mock seriousness. Of course this leads to a series of giggles while Fawzia shoves Joe away with a laugh. The rest of dinner consists of stories featuring the many times Joe slept in on significant dates like trips or birthdays and the inventive (and evil) ways Fawzia got him out of bed. Joe can only pray this doesn’t give his children any ideas. 

Later that evening Fawzia, Basim, and Amani are clearing the dishes while Mehdi and Joe work in the kitchen and Leila “supervises” them from the couch. _“So...Nicky,”_ Medhi prompts under his breath as he hands Joe a dish to dry. _“I’m beginning to sense that his childhood should be a topic to avoid, yes?”_

Joe freezes mid-wipe. _“Did something happen?”_ he hisses. _“I’ve been trying to keep an eye on him but-”_ His father interrupts him with a soothing hum. 

_“He’s subtle but there’s just been a few interactions that have me wondering. Plus he just seems so nervous around me.”_

Joe places the pot away silently. _“It’s not my story to tell,”_ he eventually sighs as he accepts a cutting board. _“But...he’s not used to a positive male role model. Not used to a father figure. Especially one like you.”_

 _“Because his father was absent?”_ Mehdi asks with a tinge of hope, since it could be argued that the alternative is worse. 

Joe smiles bitterly as he slides the cutting board with the others. (Nicky was adamant that one cutting board was not enough and now they have multiple of various sizes and colours.) _“Not quite,”_ he murmurs. 

“Oh.” Mehdi looks at Joe mournfully while Joe accepts a serving spoon and plate. “ _Should I...avoid saying or doing anything in particular? I noticed that he seemed to freeze when I called him Nicolò. He mentioned that he was okay with us using that name but perhaps not?”_

Joe frowns. He’ll have to check in with Nicky about that. Even though it’s still his legal name it’s rare for anyone to use it. And even when they do, having a stranger use it may be different than Joe’s father doing the same. “ _Yeah maybe just avoid that for now,”_ he mumbles.

“ _Do I make him uncomfortable do you think? Should I step back?”_

Joe releases a short laugh while his father studies the pan he’s scrubbing with a troubled expression. “ _I don’t think you could make someone uncomfortable if you tried, Baba.”_

“ _You clearly don’t recall the time he debated that tour guide,”_ Leila remarks wryly as she comes into the kitchen to put some tea on. 

“ _He truly wanted to claim that Copernicus had no Arabic influences,”_ Mehdi rants, making Joe snort. Having a historian as a father who also has a passion for astronomy and mathematics has led to some very entertaining moments in his childhood. 

_”Now you’ve done it Mama, we’re gonna have to listen to Baba’s history lectures for the rest of the night,_ ” Fawzia teases. 

“ _I wanna hear about it!”_ Basim exclaims. “ _I like Azizi’s lectures.”_

“ _Oh I can tell we have a budding historian in you Basim,”_ Mehdi says with a wink as he dries his hands. 

“ _Since you two are apparently too cool to hear one of your father’s lectures, why don’t you bring your sister to this lovely bar we’ve heard so much about,”_ Leila suggests. 

Joe’s brow knits together as he plays the towel on the counter. _“But you’re here to visit me, I don’t wanna just abandon you both.”_

_”What gave you that idea?”_ Leila asks with a playful grin. _“No, we're here to visit our grandchildren. It just so happens that you’re here too,”_ she claims as she crouches down to kiss Amani’s cheek, causing her to grin. 

Fawzia cackles at Joe’s indignant sputtering. “ _Yeah Yusuf take me out! I wanna hear what’s so great about this place anyway,”_ she urges. Joe mentally groans. Well, there’s always the possibility that neither Andy _nor_ Quỳnh are working tonight, right? Joe blows out a sigh. Well, he can dream. 

*******

“It’s nice to finally meet Joe’s infamous sister,” Quỳnh remarks as she lays out two coasters beside Joe and Fawzia. “What can I get you to drink?” 

“Gin and tonic please,” Fawzia nods while Joe asks for his usual. Nicky sets to work on Joe’s drink feeling slightly frazzled having Fawzia at his place of work. Apparently she strong-armed Joe into bringing her here which doesn’t surprise Nicky. Quỳnh must exchange glances with Joe because Fawzia chuckles. “I’m the bad Muslim in my family, don’t worry about it.” 

“Oh yeah she has a tattoo our parents still don’t know about,” Joe adds with a snort. 

“Once they discover it I’ll probably be disowned at long last,” Fawzia sighs dramatically.

“If Mama didn’t disown you after you broke her last good serving plate I don’t think she ever will,” Joe points out. 

Fawzia glares at him as Quỳnh and Nicky serve their drinks. “If I recall I’m not the reason that platter broke.” 

Joe arches an innocent brow. “I’m sorry, whose idea was it to bring the football in the house?” 

As the siblings begin to bicker Nicky rolls his eyes towards Quỳnh. “They’ve been like this since she arrived.” 

“Gotta love siblings,” Quỳnh snorts before moving down the bar to help out their other customers. 

“So Quỳnh, I’m a bit surprised seeing your face,” Fawzia comments as Quỳnh makes her way back towards them a moment later. Nicky and Joe swap panic-filled gazes but it’s too late. “I have no idea why Nicky would call you old!” Fawzia remarks blithely and based off the evil glint in her eye she knows _exactly_ what she’s doing. 

Nicky freezes like an injured rabbit staring down its fate as he feels Quỳnh’s gaze burning into the side of his head. “So when can I expect my apology lasagna?” Quỳnh asks him mildly. 

Nicky pinches his nose. “End of the week work?” 

“Hm. Acceptable.” 

“They seemed to want to prevent us meeting, which is pretty rude,” Fawzia sighs dramatically as she throws an arm over the back of her chair. “Honestly I don’t know what they were expecting. The moment I heard the phrase ‘lesbian moms’ cross Amani’s lips I _knew_ I needed to meet you,” Fawzia says with a smirk while she sips her drink. 

“Oh our dear Booker is flapping his mouth around again, huh?” Quỳnh laughs while she drops off a bill. 

“One day it’s gonna get him killed,” Joe mutters. 

Once she returns Quỳnh runs an assessing gaze up and down Fawzia’s face before quirking a brow. Fawzia smiles with all her teeth. “Joe...is there a reason you failed to mention that your sister is a lesbian during our many conversations about her?” Quỳnh asks mildly as she reaches for her phone. Joe shoots Nicky a wide-eyed look but Nicky raises his hands. This is _not_ on him. 

Quỳnh raises the phone to her ear and grins a moment later. “Hi darling. Yes this is important. I need you to come by the bar.” She rolls her eyes. “I _know_ you just got back from your trip but it’s worth it. There’s someone you gotta meet.” A beat passes. “I’ll make it worth your tiiiime.”

Well. They’re fucked. 

15 minutes later Andy shuffles in wearing a hoodie that says “I can’t people today” along with cookie monster pajama bottoms. “Must you wear that in public my love?” Quỳnh asks with fond exasperation when she sees Andy’s current look.

“You’re the one who dragged me out of bed at a stupid hour,” Andy grumbles as she rubs her eyes and leans against Quỳnh’s shoulder. 

“Andy, this is Joe’s sister Fawzia,” Quỳnh introduces. “His _lesbian_ sister.” 

Andy squints at Fawzia before shooting her a lazy smirk. “Joe failed to mention he had a lesbian sister.” 

“That’s what I was thinking,” Quỳnh muses. “And poor Fawzia was led to believe we were some old boring broads." 

Andy's eyes narrow at Nicky and he hangs his head. "Two lasagnas?" he suggests. 

"Hm. Add in some cannolis and baklava and maybe I'll be persuaded to forgive you," Andy pronounces. 

Nicky rolls his eyes and clears some used glasses. "That would be more intimidating if you didn't say it through a yawn," he mutters, turning to glare at Quỳnh when she whips his ass with her towel.

"Excellent punishment love but clearly Nicky isn't the sole culprit here," Quỳnh hums while Nicky mutters darkly about sexual harassment. He pauses his current tangent to watch Joe swallow as both women swivel towards him while Fawzia grins. “So what are you gonna give us Joe?” Quỳnh asks mildly. 

Joe scratches his head. “Um. An original al-Kaysani painting?” he tries.

“I suppose it's a start," Andy yawns. 

"Throw in some of your couscous and you have a deal," Quỳnh nods. 

“Oh I _like_ you two,” Fawzia cackles, raising her glass in a toast. 

“So tell us about you, kid,” Andy prompts while she pours herself a drink and leans more heavily against her wife who allows it with a breath of indulgent laughter. 

Unfortunately right as Fawzia begins to reply Nicky needs to leave them unsupervised since it’s clear Quỳnh isn’t going to respond to the person flagging her down. Rolling his eyes, Nicky wanders down and gets their order before checking on the other patrons. When he makes it back the three women are laughing uproariously while Joe’s head is resting on the counter. So...not ideal.

“What’s going on over here?” Nicky asks with forced levity. 

“Fawzia was just telling us about the time she put red food colouring in their shower head so Joe thought he was showering in blood,” Andy chortles. 

“You shoulda heard him scream Nicky, it was hilarious,” Fawzia snorts while she kicks her moaning brother. 

“Please Nico, save me from this doom,” Joe begs. 

Nicky grimaces when he spots another waved hand out of the corner of his eye. “Sorry amore, Quỳnh seems to have decided she’s done working for the night,” Nicky mutters, scoffing as Quỳnh sticks her tongue out at him like a child. 

Fortunately by the time he comes back the laughter has died down, but Fawzia’s contemplative expression isn’t too promising. “I dunno, what kinda films you got?” she asks. 

“If there are two chicks kissing, we own it,” Quỳnh claims. 

Fawzia drums her fingers on the counter. “I suppose I could use a movie night.” Studying her nails she adds, “And a manicure.” 

“Have I been replaced?” Nicky asks, shooting Andy and Quỳnh some puppy eyes.

“Yep sorry Nicky we have a new favourite gay child,” Andy declares. 

Nicky snorts. “Well, guess I can’t blame you,” he says with a sorrowful sigh. As expected, he garners no pity from anyone other than Joe who reaches across the counter to pat Nicky’s shoulder. 

“C’mon kid, we’ll get started while Quỳnh finishes her shift so Nicky doesn’t riot,” Andy says, rounding the counter and throwing an arm around Fawzia’s shoulder as they stroll away. “But if I pass out on the couch just know it’s nothing personal.” 

“What are you doing?” Nicky asks trepidatiously as Quỳnh pulls out her phone and begins texting. 

“Seeing if Rob still wants to work a shift tonight. There’s no way I’m missing some lady on lady action.” 

Nicky and Joe swap resigned looks. This can’t end well for them. 

*******

_“What did you do to your sister?”_ Leila asks as Joe enters the apartment alone. 

_“She kinda got kidnapped by Nicky’s lesbian moms?”_ Joe tries. 

Leila and Mehdi swap amused glances. _“Well we could’ve predicted that,”_ Mehdi says fondly. 

_“Did they go down all right?”_ Joe asks as he fights the urge to check on his kids. It’s not that he doesn’t trust his parents, it’s just...hard. _“I didn’t get a call but I know they’re not used to you putting them down so-”_

 _“Yes habibi they went down fine,”_ Leila says soothingly. Joe shoots her a weak smile as he feels the tension in his chest uncoil. 

_“There was one concern we wanted to check in about though,”_ Mehdi starts, making Joe’s heart constrict. 

_”What? Why didn’t you tell me! I woulda come right away I-”_ Joe rushes towards their room but is stopped by his mother.

 _“Breathe for me habibi, breathe for me,”_ Leila soothes as she presses solid hands down on his shoulders. “ _They’re okay.”_ Joe takes stuttering breaths as he stares into his mother’s placid eyes, knowing she would never lie to him. Once his breathing has steadied Leila cups his cheek. _“Want to go check on them before we keep speaking?”_

Joe closes his eyes. It’s such a weak impulse but he can’t help himself. Pulling away reluctantly from his mother’s safe embrace, Joe walks down the hall and creaks open the door. As expected, both children are sleeping peacefully, hugging their stuffed animals while Cow snoozes on Amani‘s bed and Topolina guards them, curled up at the foot of both their beds. At the sound of the door opening one of a Topolina’s eyes opens and her tail thumps lazily. Blowing her a kiss, Joe closes the door again and returns to the living room where his parents are waiting patiently. 

_”Sorry Mama and Baba. I-”_

“ _No apologies,”_ Mehdi says firmly, pulling Joe into a hug. _”You know that.”_

Joe smiles at the reminder that Nicky would say the same thing. _“Don’t tell Nicky I apologised. It would be one more tally towards him getting a new pair of cargo pants,”_ he jokes weakly. His parents chuckle as they guide him towards the couch and Joe lets himself be directed, helpless to resist. As Joe sits between them he feels the remaining tendrils of panic drift away. He closes his eyes as fingers stroke through his hair and soon finds himself resting his head on his mother’s shoulder.

“ _We didn’t mean to panic you habibi. We were just concerned about Amani,”_ Mehdi says, voice tinged with regret.

Joe grimaces, knowing where this is going. He hadn’t told them about Amani’s struggles yet since their video calls almost always include his children. Joe had been trying to coax Amani and Basim away the last few times but with the upcoming visit they were too excited to step aside. “ _What happened?”_ he sighs. 

“ _Basim wanted to play this rhyming game? But Amani didn’t seem too into it and struggled quite a bit. Then at bedtime we asked if they wanted to read to us and Basim was eager to but Amani seemed to retreat within herself,”_ Leila explains. 

Joe hangs his head. “ _Yeah that tracks,”_ he rasps. Taking a shaky breath he murmurs, “ _She’s gonna get tested after break.”_

“Ah.” His parents fall silent for a moment. “ _It’s a good thing they caught it early, no?”_

Joe shrugs. “ _I should’ve noticed it sooner. It’s my speciality.”_

_“None of that Yusuf,”_ Leila says firmly. She turns his head so Joe has no choice but to stare into her piercing eyes. “ _You cannot be perfect habibi,”_ she says gently, stroking a hand through his hair. “ _You are doing everything right.”_ Joe thumps his head on his mother’s shoulder and slumps. Sturdy arms wrap around him and Joe just lets himself be held. 

“ _How is Nicky taking this?”_ Mehdi asks carefully. And Joe knows what he’s actually asking. Is Nicky up for it. Is he prepared to be a parent for a child with a learning disability. 

_“Like everything he didn’t even hesitate before starting to do everything in his power to support her,”_ Joe replies with a small smile.

“ _So you two are doing alright?”_

Joe straightens and studies his hands for a long moment. _“We’re doing better than I could’ve ever hoped,”_ he whispers. _“He…he just gets me you know? He gets my neuroses, my overprotectiveness...gets my spaciness and disorganisation…he gets it all. And he loves it all,”_ he adds quietly. 

Joe feels soft lips press against his forehead as gentle fingers stroke through his hair. “ _Good. Now let’s talk about this house yes?”_

He groans and hangs his head. “ _Baba for the last time we are way too early in our relationship to talk about a house! We’re not even married- we haven’t even been together for a year!”_ Oh Allah- _marriage._ Joe swallows. No. That’s something he can’t think about yet. 

“ _Well technically he started babysitting your children in December so it could be argued that it has been a year,_ ” Leila comments mildly. Joe glowers at her. Sometimes he hates that his mother is a lawyer. 

He scrubs his face with a sigh. “ _Can we at least wait till we see how this book does? If it does well then we might have some extra cushion to put down a mortgage. Right now between our two salaries it would be cutting it tight.”_ Especially since he's setting aside the settlement money for Amani and Basim's future.

His parents turn to each other in that in synch way that is almost creepy before they acquiesce. “ _Alright, we can return to this once the book is published,”_ Mehdi nods, throwing an arm around Joe’s shoulders. 

“ _Speaking of, do we get a sneak peek?”_ Leila asks eagerly.

“ _Well I guess I can show you one page,”_ Joe agrees with a small smile. He stands up to hunt down his drawing tablet before searching for one of the less graphic scenes. Eventually he settles on the moment on the train. 

“ _You did this yourself?”_ Mehdi asks quietly once Joe opens it to show them both. 

“ _Incredible,”_ Leila breathes. 

“ _I knew we should’ve pushed you to pursue this more,”_ Mehdi says mournfully as his fingers hover over the screen. 

Joe’s eyes widen. “ _No Baba I’m happy to be a teacher- I **love** it. I love helping kids and molding them into being the best humans they can be. I wouldn’t get that up for anything!”_ He fidgets with the tablet. “ _But… it’s nice to do some serious art again,”_ he adds with a shrug. 

“ _Well I can’t wait to buy the first issue,”_ Leila declares firmly. 

Joe ducks his head. “ _We still have to wait for the publishers to get back to us. And it’s kinda graphic Mama.”_

Leila makes a dismissive noise and waves her hand. “ _You forget your Baba’s love of action films.”_

_“And your Mama’s love of horror,”_ Mehdi adds with a shudder. 

Joe grins but his smile wavers as his parents stand with a stretch. “ _We should return to our hotel. If only we had a room we could retire to within your home,”_ Mehdi remarks with a sigh. 

Joe shoves his father away with a huff of laughter. “ _You’re impossible.”_

Chuckling, his parents grab their coats and give Joe a hug before heading out. Joe sighs as he sinks into the couch. A house...it’s such a big step but with Amani and Basim growing more every day and the addition of Topolina...it’s worth some thought. 

*******

“Wait lemme get this straight: you punch her and give her a black eye and she retaliates by giving you a bloody nose and then that same day you’re found snogging in the locker room? I dunno whether to be impressed or concerned,” Fawzia laughs. 

“What can I say?” Quỳnh says with a shrug. “I saw her with fury burning in her one good eye while she tried to get me in a chokehold and thought she was the most gorgeous sight I’ve ever seen.”

Fawzia turns to where Andy is currently drooling from where she’s passed out in one of their arm chairs. “Then you must be consumed by lust in the face of that,” she notes dryly. 

Quỳnh releases a low laugh before leaning over from her place on the couch to wipe away some of the drool. Fawzia makes a face of disgust. Yeah, she’s never gonna love someone that much. “I don’t know about lust so much as exasperated fondness,” she remarks with a soft smile. “After 25 years the things that gross you out or irritate you become some of the things you love the most.”

Fawzia studies her hands. “How did you do it? If you started off so heated and intense how did you keep from burning out?” 

Quỳnh turns a far too discerning gaze on her and tilts her head. “Asking from personal experience I assume?” 

Fawzia scowls and feels her shoulders rise up defensively. It’s one thing talking about this with Yusuf and another with a practical stranger. She doesn’t know what her expression shows but Quỳnh raises her hands defensively. “Don’t need to share if you don’t wanna.” Sipping her glass of wine Quỳnh sinks into the cushion with a sigh. “The spark has always been there for us but it took work to make it last. Still does.” She turns to study her wife and reaches down to stroke a loose strand of hair out of Andy’s face. “But if your love is worth it you fight for it with everything you got.” 

Fawzia lowers her gaze. That was their problem. When she and Maribel felt the spark starting to fade they just gave up on each other. "How did you know it was worth it?" she asks weakly. "That it was worth the fight?"

Quỳnh hums. "After our first major argument actually." Fawzia lifts her head up in shock. That's not what she was expecting. She thought Quỳnh would say "because she always made me smile" or some sappy shit like that. Quỳnh turns to smile knowingly at Fawzia like she can read her thoughts. "It was over something dumb as most arguments are and I stormed out of her apartment, _furious_ at her. And yet you know what I wanted more than anything in the world at that moment?" She tilts her head and Fawzia gestures for her to go on before Quỳnh turns to gaze softly at her wife once more. "I wanted to be in the arms of the woman who made me so angry in the first place." 

She laughs quietly. "Only love can make you wanna throttle and hold someone in the same breath. It's irrational and all-consuming and _hard_ but it's so damn worth it." Quỳnh grins, gaze far away as she recalls that day. "So I turned back around, stormed back in and pulled her into a kiss telling her that I was still pissed off and we were gonna talk it out but right then I just wanted a hug.'" 

Sobering, she shakes her head. "I'll never forget the expression on Andy's face. How resignation morphed into painful hope and relief." Quỳnh tosses back the rest of her wine. "I don't like to think of what would've happened if I was a bit more stubborn that day," she finishes quietly. Meeting Fawzia's gaze she says firmly, "If it's worth it you fight your own pride and stubbornness and sanity to keep it." 

Fawzia sits back and studies the amber liquid of her drink as she lets Quỳnh's story sink in. "Huh." 

A weighted silence falls between them. “You should come to our hockey game this week. Lots of alcohol and women to ogle,” Quỳnh idly remarks after a long moment. 

Fawzia bristles. “I’m not looking for a relationship.” 

Quỳnh arches a brow with a smirk. “Who says anything about a relationship?” 

Processing what Quỳnh is implying, Fawzia barks out a laugh which has the inadvertent effect of jolting Andy awake. “Wha?” she snorts as she struggles to sit upright.

“I think it’s time for bed dear,” Quỳnh says with thinly veiled amusement. Andy mumbles something as she stumbles to her feet but clearly Quỳnh understands her. “Yes love, I’ll rewatch the movie with you tomorrow,” she replies indulgently. Fawzia glances at the TV where _But I’m a Cheerleader_ has been playing in the background. When Andy runs a lazy hand through Quỳnh's hair she catches it and presses a kiss to her palm. “Sleep well love. I’ll be there soon,” she promises. 

Once Andy drags herself away, Quỳnh turns back to Fawzia with warm and sparkling eyes. “She’s utterly ridiculous and I love her for it,” Quỳnh sighs. 

Fawzia smiles before chuckling as she recalls what woke Andy up in the first place. “I can’t believe my brother’s partner’s mom just suggested I get laid.” 

Quỳnh shrugs unrepentantly. “Just saying, half the players are queer and half of them are closer to your age than mine.” 

Fawzia swirls her bourbon in her glass. “Hm. Could be fun.”

She turns back to the movie and they fall into companionable silence. As the film draws to a close however her phone vibrates. When Fawzia pulls it out of her pocket she smiles softly. 

**Yusuf** _Nicky’s wondering if he should include you for his breakfast headcount_

 **Me** _Of course I won’t miss out on that man’s cooking_

Looking up Fawzia grins mischievously. “Wanna come by for breakfast tomorrow morning?”

“Obviously,” Quỳnh scoffs. 

**Me** _Tell him to plan for some additional heads too_

 **Yusuf** _You’re the worst_

 **Me** _Should I tell Andy and Quỳnh you don’t want them there? I’m not sure how they’ll take that..._

 **Yusuf** _*middle finger*_

With a snort, Fawzia returns the phone to her pocket and stretches as the final scene plays on the screen. “Well I should probably be heading back since Nicky and my parents seem to think 8:00 is a reasonable time to eat breakfast,” she sighs.

“No reason to head back at this hour,” Quỳnh protests. “We have a guest bedroom and it’ll only take a sec to set it up.”

Fawzia chuckles. “You should mention that in front of my father tomorrow so I can watch steam come outta Yusuf’s ears.”

When Quỳnh shoots her an inquiring glance as they bring the popcorn bowls and glasses into the kitchen Fawzia smirks. “He’s been trying to convince Yusuf to buy a house for the past year at least and one of his selling points is the possibility of a guest room.” 

“Oh that’s bound to cause all kinds of panic between those two idiots,” Quỳnh sniggers. “I’ll be sure to mention it.” 

While Fawzia cleans the dishes, Quỳnh insists on setting up the bedroom. Once Fawzia is washed up Quỳnh wishes her goodnight and closes the door behind her. The guest room is just like the rest of the house: full of warm blues and greens as well as tasteful furniture that Fawzia can already guess comes from Quỳnh's design choices rather than Andy’s. 

With a contented sigh, Fawzia collapses on the bed in some soft sweats and shirt Quỳnh lent out to her. She’s missed her brother, fuck has she missed him, but she couldn’t skip out on an opportunity to troll him tonight. But with less of a week left to spend time with him and a growing interest in getting to know Nicky more as well as Andy and Quỳnh now too...well, she’ll just have to visit again soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, I may be delayed releasing the next chapter with work/life commitments. I’ll do my best but no promises. Thank you in advance for your patience!! (Also I may or may not write a one shot featuring Andy and Quỳnh's relationship evolution for femslash fortnight so stay tuned...) 
> 
> Zakkenwasser: A Dutch insult that means bags-washer or ballsack-washer, and essentially means douchebag


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe's day starts up nice and calm. It only goes up from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it seemed like last chapter wasn’t everyone’s favourite which is absolutely understandable! It was great hearing what those of you who commented liked about it but if people aren’t really enjoying the visit of Joe’s family, this chapter will continue that so you may want to just skip it. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for being understanding and patient while I worked to get this chapter out! Upon reflection I think I’m gonna start updating Saturdays/Sundays just to give myself a bit more time to edit and polish each chapter up but it will still update weekly. As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Joe is slowly eased out of sleep by light gently streaming through the curtains and murmured voices down the hall. Keeping his eyes closed, he gropes along the bed and whines when the spot Nicky should be in is cold. With a petulant grumble, he grasps his Nicky Pillow and snuggles into it instead. Nicky’ll come in with some kind of bribe to get Joe out of bed soon and he refuses to move until that moment. 

It’s possible his sleep brain forgot who exactly was visiting. 

Joe releases a yelp as his covers are cruelly ripped away before something heavy sits on him. _”Wakey wakey Yusuf! I was promised pancakes!”_ his asshole of a sister crows. Whining, Joe attempts to cover his head with his Nicky Pillow but that in turn is stripped from his grasp. Growling, Joe peels open an eye to face Fawzia staring down at him with a shit-eating grin. 

He lifts his head to say something unsavory when Joe spots Amani and Basim at the foot of the bed watching him with matching curious expressions. “ _Can you hand your baba his blankets please my little monsters?”_ Joe asks plaintively instead. While Basim looks conflicted, Amani sticks her chin up and stares at the ceiling. “ _Something interesting up there Amani?”_ he asks with bemusement. 

“ _Auntie says we shouldn’t look at your eyes if we wanna get you up,”_ Amani explains, still staring at the ceiling. 

Joe glares at his smug sister. “ _It’s true,”_ she says, shrugging shamelessly. 

Groaning, Joe thumps his head back on the pillow. “ _I hate you,”_ he mumbles. Or, it started as a mumble and ends in a shriek as Fawzia sticks her fingers under his armpits and starts tickling him. While Joe tries to writhe away from the torture, his children start giggling. Traitors. 

“ _C’mooon Yusuf you know how to make it stop,”_ Fawzia croons. 

Flailing, Joe desperately attempts to escape his sister’s clutches and has a moment of victory as she lays off only for it to be quashed as he realises he’s far too close to the edge. “Are you alright in here tesoro?” Nicky asks as he enters the room. “You sound like-” but whatever he was going to say gets cut off by a snort as Joe flails right off the bed and onto the heap of blankets now on the floor. 

Joe glowers at the ceiling when a far too self-satisfied face enters his vision. _“Now that you’re up I wanted to say, I’ve known Andy and Quỳnh for less than a day but something tells me they won’t be happy if they’re kept waiting when food’s on the line,”_ Fawzia muses. Joe whines pitifully. He’s fucked. 

Fortunately, by the time he stumbles into the kitchen everyone is snacking on some muffins Nicky and the kids baked yesterday. That buys him some time at least. _Un_ fortunately, his parents are in an animated conversation with Andy and Quỳnh which can only spell trouble for him and Nicky. Shaking off the sense of foreboding rising through his chest, Joe scrubs his face and gets to work. “ _I thought you wanted Nicky’s cooking,”_ he mumbles to his sister who’s watching over his shoulder like a hungry vulture.

“ _Yeah well I wanted to know what all the talk was about,”_ she retorts. 

Grumbling, Joe warms the griddle before cracking some eggs and working on the mix. “ _Did you really have to invite them?”_ he asks plaintively. 

Joe doesn’t need to turn around to know that his sister’s face has spread into a hungry smile. “ _When given the opportunity to torture you Yusuf I must seize upon it. It is the golden rule of older siblinging.”_

“Children, English!” Leila scolds, looking up from where she was admiring Quỳnh's royal blue nails. Joe and Fawzia turn to their mother guiltily but she only tuts. “I swear we raised them better than this,” she sighs. 

“Kids,” Andy nods, raising her glass and mussing Nicky’s hair. Squawking, Nicky slaps her away with a glare and tries to fix it. 

“Honestly I think that was an improvement,” Quỳnh comments, eyeing Nicky critically. Even though it’s stupidly early, she’s dressed in a smart red pantsuit that puts the rest of them to shame. It’s especially contrasted with Andy’s baggy faded grey sweatshirt and jeans. Joe’s starting to understand where Nicky got his particular fashion sense from. Though he _has_ opted to wear jeans rather than cargo pants while Joe’s family visits and if that's not love Joe isn't quite sure what is. 

“Hm I agree with Quỳnh,” Fawzia nods with a smirk as she sips on her mimosa. 

When Leila spots Fawzia’s drink she sighs. “I’m going to pretend that that is orange juice.” 

“What else would it be Mama?” Fawzia replies innocently, making Leila roll her eyes with an amused smile. Though their parents raised them on the Quran, Leila and Mehdi made it clear that they would never force Joe and Fawzia to follow any teachings they did not wish to. It made it that much easier when Fawzia and then Joe came out; as nerve racking as it was for each of them, there was never a doubt in their minds that their parents wouldn’t still love them. Joe turns to where Nicky is humming and chopping up some fruit for smoothies. 

If only every queer child could be so lucky. 

Nicky must sense Joe’s eyes on him because he turns with a smile and raised brow. “Your pancakes are gonna burn,” he remarks idly. It speaks to how often Joe spaces out that Nicky doesn’t act surprised by this fact. Eyes widening, Joe turns back to the griddle and frantically flips the pancakes on a plate. As he moves to place them in the oven to keep them warm a hand sneaks past him and snatches one of the pancakes. 

Joe turns with betrayal in his eyes to his smug sister munching on a now beheaded snowman. “Y’know Basim, I see what all the fuss is about,” she comments with a full mouth. Basim looks up and beams from where he’s playing with Cow in the living room. 

“Wait pancakes are ready?” Amani asks frantically, abandoning Topolina and running into the kitchen. 

“Whoa not yet patatina,” Nicky laughs, catching her and lifting her up. Amani looks at him with a pout that would make a lesser man cave but Nicky just smiles softly and pokes her nose. “Patience amore, patience.” 

“Can I at least have my adult juice now?” she asks plaintively. 

Nicky looks conflicted for a critical moment before sighing. “How can I deny a cucciola as sweet as you.” Squealing, Amani hurries to grab a Moana cup while Basim rushes to do the same. While Nicky blends and pours their drinks and navigates excitable limbs with a laugh, Joe notices his parents watching him out of the corner of his eye, soft smiles on both their faces. Even Andy and Fawzia have dropped their tough exteriors as they gaze softly at Nicky tangled up in both kids. Joe ducks his head with a grin. Yeah, you can’t not melt in a puddle of affectionate goo at that sight. 

His peace is cruelly shattered by the usual culprit however. “So Baba, you shoulda seen Andy and Quỳnh's house,” Fawzia remarks casually as she throws an arm around Joe’s shoulder. He stiffens, knowing whatever is about to come out of her mouth is going to injure him grievously. 

“Oh yeah Fawzia seemed to enjoy our nice big guest room,” Quỳnh comments offhandedly, swirling her bloody mary around. 

Joe hangs his head. _“I hate you,”_ he mutters darkly.

Fawzia smacks a kiss on his cheek. “Love ya too Yusuf!” she says cheerfully right before Mehdi begins espousing once more on the virtues of having a house. 

Shaking his head, Joe works to tune his father out as he finishes the pancakes. “Hang in there tesoro,” Nicky murmurs in his ear, squeezing the back of his neck. 

Taking advantage of the open opportunity, Joe rests his head on Nicky’s shoulder. “Is it too late to move to Alaska?” he asks forlornly. 

“Your sister got Andy and Quỳnh involved. Of course it’s too late,” Nicky replies wryly. Groaning, Joe pulls the platter out of the oven and starts serving pancakes on each plate. His despondency somewhat dissipates in the face of the various smiles as his family receives their plates however. Besides just regular pancakes, he gave his dad a hat with a little puff on top, his mum a book, his sister a stethoscope, Amani a snowman, Basim a dog, and of course Nicky a Mickey Mouse. 

“I think you can quit your current job and go into pancake art,” Quỳnh laughs as she and Andy look at their hockey sticks and ice skates. 

Joe ducks his head with a smile. “I have fun with it,” he shrugs. With plates stacked, they all crowd into the living room, Andy and Quỳnh dragging in some kitchen chairs so they have somewhere to sit while Joe and Nicky join Cow and Topolina on the ground as usual. Though Topolina eyes Joe’s plate it takes one look from Nicky for her to turn with a huff and return to gnawing on a bone while Cow curls against her. Joe will never stop feeling relieved at the fact that Cow decided to begrudgingly adopt Topolina; being a lone wolf for so long Joe wouldn’t fault her for resenting a new fluffy member in the house. 

While Joe uses one hand to eat he begins to sneakily give both animals pets. He’s not sly enough though because Nicky turns to him, raising an unimpressed brow. Even though the no couch and no bed rule has been irrevocably broken, Nicky is still adamant about not feeding Topolina or petting her while they eat because it gives her “the wrong idea.” Sighing morosely, Joe leans against Nicky and returns to his meal. 

Despite his fear that Andy, Quỳnh, and Fawzia would gang up on them, breakfast is relatively tame. Apparently Andy is a secret geek when it comes to astronomy and when Quỳnh learned that Leila is a lawyer her eyes lit up at the prospect of having a formidable opponent to argue with. So now Mehdi and Andy are chattering about galaxies and constellations while Leila and Quỳnh hold a mock trial on polyester vs. silk clothing. Joe turns to Fawzia with a smug smirk since her plan has clearly backfired. She just scowls and returns to listening to Basim chatter about his latest favourite book. 

Amani frowns at her snowman as he does and Joe and Nicky exchange a silent look before Nicky hisses, “Pssst. Amani.” Lifting up her eyes, Amani's face spreads into a tiny smile as Joe and Nicky beckon her over and she hops off the couch to join them on the ground. “What would you like to do today patatina?” Nicky inquires as he lifts her in his lap, pancakes forgotten. That familiar burst of _love love love_ surges through Joe’s chest at the seamless way Nicky comforts and distracts her, listening attentively as Amani shares her many ideas. 

Of course, the peace couldn’t last forever. “And so little Yusuf toddled out of my arms and started jumping up and down trying to catch the shooting stars,” Mehdi chuckles. Joe’s eyes widen as he catches the end of his father’s tale. Wait, what happened to talking about constellations? 

“Oh that’s precious but you shoulda seen Nicky when we convinced him that to ‘get someone’s goat’ meant to get their drink,” Andy snorts. 

Nicky shoots her a venomous glare. “I’ll never forgive you for that,” he grumbles. 

“Wait what?” Joe breathes, his own embarrassment forgotten. “ _Please_ tell me this story.” He feels slightly guilty at Nicky’s mortified moan but this opportunity is too sweet to pass up. 

“Well, he was just starting up at the bar and we were giving him the lay of the land,” Andy starts to explain, throwing an arm around her wife. 

“And as we were going through everything my love decided to tell Nicky that before taking a glass from a patron you can just ask ‘can I get your goat.’ Made up some explanation that it’s American slang for glass,” Quỳnh adds, gazing at her wife with fond adoration.

Joe turns to Nicky’s ever-reddening face. “And you actually believed that?” he asked incredulously. 

Nicky hides his face in Amani’s braids. “English is already so dumb it made sense to me,” he mumbles while Fawzia cackles with delight. 

“You shoulda seen the look on that poor woman’s face when Nicky said it to her,” Andy chortles into Quỳnh's shoulder who is leaned back, eyes twinkling with amusement. 

“I wish I had snapped a photo,” she quips.

“That reminds me,” Fawzia pipes up and all of Joe’s mirth drains away to be replaced by dread. “Did I ever tell you about Joe’s photography stage?” Nicky raises his head to look at Fawzia with a greedy glint in his eye while Joe swallows. Aw fuck- he can’t let her finish that thought. 

“So! Sledding? What are your thoughts?” Joe cuts in desperately. Fawzia’s eyes narrow with displeasure as Amani and Basim begin to chatter about the prospect of sledding for the first time all winter and their parents turn to listen. Joe releases a relieved breath. Well, bullet dodged. For now. 

*******

Sledding. A perfect opportunity to push unsuspecting innocent bystanders down a hill. Wonderful. Nicky whimpers as he spots Andy, Fawzia, and Quỳnh in a huddle together. This can’t end well. Taking a breath and praying to the god he still isn’t 100% exists for courage, Nicky crouches down to where Amani and Basim are standing beside their sleds. “Ready cuccioli?” he asks. 

While Amani grins widely and nods, Basim bites his lip and looks up at Nicky with wide eyes. “Can you go down with me Nicky Mouse?” he whispers. 

Nicky grimaces. He was afraid of this. “You’re a bit too big passerotto,” he replies regretfully. As Basim clutches onto him tightly Nicky makes his decision. “What if I go first, yes? To show you what it’s like?” Basim’s helmet bangs into his arm as he nods. Taking a breath, Nicky sits in a sled. “Now Basim, it’s not too bad if you-” but Nicky cuts himself off with a shriek as he’s shoved down the hill. He turns just enough to glare at the laughing expressions of the asshole women in his life before facing forward to navigate. 

Since this is the first year the kids can’t sled with an adult, they chose a relatively small hill. Of course Amani (the daredevil she is) was a tad disappointed by the size of it but when Andy and Quỳnh expressed mostly exaggerated excitement to be there she got in the spirit. Those two women are horrible influences on Amani but they have a few saving graces. Nicky just knows the moment he leaves them alone with her he’ll turn to find Amani in full padding learning how to do a slapshot though. God, he will definitely not survive that, let alone Joe. 

Speaking of the man, Nicky turns with a grin as Joe yelps with glee and speeds past him, whooping as he slows to a stop. “Where did you come from?” Nicky laughs as Joe helps him out of his sled. 

“I came to save my brave knight,” Joe declares dramatically, bowing down and kissing Nicky’s hand. 

Blushing at the scene he’s making Nicky grumbles, “Ridiculous man.” 

“A ridiculous man you love,” Joe replies with sparkling eyes. And- come on. How is he _not_ supposed to kiss that smile? Nicky doesn’t quite understand what Fawzia shouts a moment later but by Joe’s glare and rapid-fire response it was probably along the lines of “get a room.” 

“C’mon ya amar, I promise to protect you from the evil demons,” Joe vows as he takes Nicky’s hand and they start the trek back up hand in hand. 

“My hero,” Nicky says fondly, tucking this scenario into the back of his mind. Now that the book’s submitted, Nicky's been itching to translate the numerous stories about knights and princes and princesses that he and Joe have woven for each other and the kids into picture books. He knows that other children could find joy in them. 

Once they reach the top Basim races forward to hug Nicky and he lifts the boy up to snuggle him close. “See Basim? Not too bad,” Nicky says with a smile while his eyes spell murder to the women smirking behind Basim. 

“You were funny Nicky Mouse,” Basim giggles. And with his nerves dissipating, Basim wiggles down and hops onto the sled. As he does Nicky feels Joe’s grip on his hand renew and tighten. He turns to Joe and notes the way that his smile distracts from the tightening around his eyes. This is the first year he’s not sledding down with them and Nicky can’t imagine the anxiety brewing in his chest. Honestly he should’ve stopped once they turned six but Nicky can’t blame Joe for waiting one more year. 

Kissing Joe’s cheek softly Nicky crouches down. “Remind me what the safety rules are cuccioli,” he prompts. Nicky nods as Amani and Basim obediently recite all the rules back to him and he can feel Joe relax minutely behind him. “Okay! I think we’re ready to go!” he announces, straightening back up. “We’re gonna give you a gentle push, k?” 

“No I want a big push like Auntie Andy gave you!” Amani insists. 

Glaring at Andy Nicky grits out, “Maybe another time Amani.” Kissing Basim’s cheek who still looks quite nervous, he and Joe gently push them, Joe pushing Basim impossibly more softly than Nicky does for Amani. As they slide down, Nicky wraps an arm around Joe’s tense form while the rest of the adults cheer both children on. It’s only when they make it safely to the bottom that Nicky can feel Joe relax minutely. “Yeah I should help them back up,” he mutters to himself, taking off down the mountain before Nicky can open his mouth to say anything. 

“Lord help that man when those kids join a sports team,” Quỳnh sighs. 

“I see this as preparation for it, y’know? Any nephew and niece of mine are gonna play football and if Yusuf doesn’t sign them up for it I’ll be flying back over here to give him a piece of my mind,” Fawzia vows. While Nicky knows enough about Fawzia to understand that’s no idle threat, he grimaces at the implication. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to bring football back into his life. He can’t be that person again. He can’t let this wonderful family see him like that.

Once Joe, Amani, and Basim make it up Amani runs to Nicky. “Did you see me Nicky Mouse?” Amani asks eagerly. 

“I did Amani!” Nicky enthuses, lifting her up and giving Amani a kiss. He turns to Basim who is clutching Joe’s leg. “Did you have fun Basi?” Nicky asks. Basim shrugs and hides his face in Joe’s leg. 

“You went so fast I couldn't even film it ya saghroun!” Mehdi exclaims, waving his camera in the air. “Think you can go down just one more time so I can catch it this time?” Nicky hides his smile as Basim eyes the camera contemplatively. Clever man. 

“Maybe it’s ‘cause you’re using that old man tech,” Fawzia teases, causing Mehdi to wave a hand dismissively. 

She and Joe have been making fun of Mehdi ever since he insisted on using an actual camera instead of his camera phone. “I will not sacrifice the quality of my photographs!” Mehdi had protested when they first brought it up. Nicky has been trying to duck the enthusiastic man’s attempts to capture the day since he’s rather camera shy but something tells him that Mehdi has snuck a few of him with the kids and Joe anyway. 

With the promise of doing a favour for his grandfather, Basim reluctantly agrees to try going down one more time. Nicky shoots Mehdi a grateful glance who winks back at him. It can take some coaxing to get Basim outside his comfort zone but once he tries he often forgets what made him nervous to start with. Going to where Topolina is rolling in the snow, leash held loosely by Leila, Basim gives the dog a tight hug that is further chronicled by a snap of Mehdi’s camera. Nicky will have to ask him for a copy of that one later. After a long moment Basim steps away and with a raised chin, sits on the sled. At this point Amani has already been down and up again but now she waits impatiently for her brother. 

As Joe follows after his children, Fawzia throws an arm around Nicky. “So Nicky,” she drawls, “Whaddya thinking for lunch?” 

“You insufferable child,” Leila laughs while Nicky stammers to answer. “Don’t answer that Nicky, Yusuf and I can make something. I would suggest my daughter could but she inherited her cooking skills from her father.” 

Nicky bites his lip at the twin affronted “Heys!” at Leila’s pronouncement and relaxes at the prospect of not being under the microscope next meal. 

“Perhaps we can crochet while they cook, hm? Or do some more calligraphy?” Mehdi suggests.

“You crochet?” Quỳnh asks incredulously, turning to Nicky from where she had been watching the kids. “But the one and only time I asked if you wanted me to teach you how to knit you said-” Nicky launches forward to clamp a hand over Quỳnh's mouth, briefly forgetting who he’s dealing with. In an instant he’s on his back in the snow and blinking dumbly as Quỳnh settles on his chest with a hum. “Oh, what was the exact phrasing, my love?” she asks, studying her gloved nails. 

Nicky whimpers at the wicked grin Andy shoots him as she looms over him with her hands shoved in her pockets. “I think it was something along the lines of ‘Why would I want to learn something that only geriatrics would be interested in?'” While Fawzia cackles with delight, Nicky shuts his eyes. Even if knitting and crocheting are technically different, they’re close enough for that to be a damning insult. Nicky’s eyes fly open with surprise and relaxes minutely when Mehdi releases a full-bellied chortle, Leila joining in as well. 

“I feel like we clearly missed something,” Joe comments, voice tinged with amusement as he and the kids make it back to their group. 

“Apparently-” Fawzia wheezes, leaning an elbow on Andy’s shoulder before trying again. “Apparently your man claimed that knitting is a geriatric’s pastime but has been begrudgingly learning how to crochet from poor naive Baba the past two days!” 

“No I really have been enjoying it!” Nicky protests as he fights fruitlessly to wiggle out from under Quỳnh. 

“Why is Auntie sitting on you Nicky Mouse?” Basim asks, tilting his head curiously. 

“Yes why would that be Auntie Quỳnh?” Nicky grits out. 

Quỳnh smiles angelically at Basim. “Because Nicky was being a very silly mouse,” she explains with a solemn nod, poking Basim’s nose and making him giggle. 

“I wanna sit on Nicky Mouse too!” Amani exclaims and Nicky only has a split second to protest before he’s crushed under more weight. He glares at his love as Joe stuffs a fist in his mouth to stifle his laughter. Dammit why does he still need to look so charming? The rest of their group however has no qualms with openly laughing at Nicky’s misery. 

“Don’t you wanna go down again Amani?” Nicky asks desperately. 

“Yeah ‘Mani I wanna go down again,” Basim insists, tugging at his sister’s arm. Nicky feels himself smile with relief even as his air supply continues to be cut off. He knew that Basim just needed another chance to get rid of his nerves. 

“Why do I like you all again?” he asks through a strained smile as he waves at the children scurrying over to their sleds. 

“Our charming personality?” Quỳnh suggests. 

“Our booze?” Andy adds. 

“Joe’s-” 

“Don’t finish that sentence!” Joe yelps but his sister only blinks innocently at him. “I was simply going to say Joe’s pancakes. Sheesh Yusuf get your mind out of the gutter,” she smirks. 

“Yeah right,” Joe grumbles, huffing and crossing his arms. 

“As thrilling as this debate is, will _someone_ rescue me?” Nicky pleads. 

“Technically Quỳnh is in her rights to pursue damages after your defamation of her character and subsequent assault,” Leila observes, causing Nicky to gape at her. 

“Ha! Lawyered,” Quỳnh grins victoriously, wiggling as she gets more comfortable on him.

“I have to look out for the woman who successfully persuaded me that silk clothing can have its merits,” Leila says with a wink, leading Nicky to groan. Fuck, Joe’s _mum_ is on their side now? They’re royally fucked. 

*******

When they make it back Nicky and Leila cook up some hot cocoa to the sleepy satisfaction of everyone. Though there was what sounded like a whispered argument about the best way to make hot cocoa, by the time Leila and Nicky join everyone in the living room whatever they were arguing about seems to be resolved. Joe hums happily as Nicky snuggles next to him and hands him hot cocoa with mini marshmallows. “Thank you hayati,” Joe murmurs, kissing Nicky’s cheek. 

Lazy silence falls among the group as Basim and Amani try to blink themselves awake after innumerable times sledding down that hill. As terrifying as it was letting them sled solo, Joe is relieved that it happened when he could be surrounded by his ridiculous family to distract him from his brewing panic. But he doesn’t want two grumpy seven years olds so Joe better cajole them into taking a nap soon. 

“I’ve been meaning to say Yusuf,” Mehdi starts, setting aside his camera after going through the pictures from the day, “have you gotten into chess after all these years?” Joe grimaces as his father nods towards the chess board in the basket of games and toys with an excited glint in his eye. Of course he would notice that. 

“Do you still call the knights horses habibi?” Leila asks with amusement, stroking a gentle hand through Basim’s hair as his head begins to droop. 

Joe glowers at her while Nicky snorts into his mug. “I stand by that name. It’s a horse not a person,” he grumbles to himself, feeling slightly placated as Nicky pecks his cheek. 

“Of course tesoro.” 

“Well we’ll have to test your skills then!” Mehdi exclaims, launching for the chess board. 

Joe groans and thumps his head on Nicky’s shoulder. “Planning on cheating caro mio?” Nicky asks idly. 

“It’s not my fault you get distracted by my charm,” Joe protests. 

Nicky raises an unimpressed brow. “Is that what you call throwing a toy behind me so I would watch Cow or Topolina chase after it?” 

“Charm comes in many shapes and sizes,” Joe grins, raising his head to wink at Nicky. 

“Yusuf used to try to do the same to me,” Fawzia remarks, a smirk spreading across her face. “It never worked.” Joe shudders at the reminder of the wrestling matches that always ended with Joe pinned and wet willyed. 

“Ah you disappoint me ayech weldi,” Mehdi sighs dramatically. “I was hoping to play a stimulating game.” 

“Just play against Mama,” Joe nods towards her. As much as chess never interested him as a child (and honestly still doesn’t really) watching his parents play is like witnessing two masters at work. Two masters who shamelessly flirt that is. 

“Maybe later,” Leila hums, trading a wicked smile with Mehdi. “For now I really ought to start lunch. Come Yusuf, help me make it, yes?” Perking up at the prospect of cooking with his mother, Joe pecks Nicky’s cheek and jumps up, sipping the last dregs of his cocoa. As he does, Joe overhears Fawzia prodding Nicky into playing a round of chess with Mehdi. He turns to where Nicky is looking indecisive before his shoulders straighten with resolve as he turns to Mehdi’s hopeful expression. 

When Nicky got home last night Joe woke up and though he usually slips right back to sleep once Nicky is properly in his arms, this time Joe checked in with him about how he’s been feeling with the visit. When Nicky stiffened Joe was about to ask what was wrong but before he could Nicky turned so they were face to face. Even so, Nicky’s eyes were trained down as he said, “Your father...he’s kind.” Joe brushed a thumb along Nicky’s cheek but remained silent, giving Nicky a chance to gather his thoughts. 

After a long moment Nicky raised his eyes and the uncertainty in them made Joe’s heart shatter. Ever since Nicky admitted his past to Joe every so often he’ll share another tidbit, faltering and vulnerable and always in the dark. One pattern that quickly emerged was that while both his parents were cold and distant, his father could get volatile while his mother only vacant. It’s caused Nicky to be far more anxious meeting Mehdi in person than Leila. 

Resolve crumbling, Nicky buried his face in Joe’s chest and Joe couldn’t fault him for wanting to hide. “It’s nice,” he finally whispered. 

Joe squeezed his eyes shut before kissing Nicky’s head. “Yeah,” he rasped. “It is.” 

He’s so grateful for his father’s discernment, because even after his revelations yesterday Mehdi isn’t treating Nicky with kid gloves, though there is a sharpness in his gaze that no one but the people who have been around him for decades would notice. Even if he’s not treating Nicky differently, Mehdi is clearly on the lookout for anything else that he may say or do that could be triggering. 

But for now that sharpness is tempered by the gleam of competition. 

Leaving them to it since if there’s one thing that will help Nicky forget his nerves it’s competition, Joe turns to the kitchen while Fawzia and Quỳnh pull out some nail polish to do Basim and Amani’s nails and Andy watches the chess match with interest. 

_“So Basim’s anxiety seems to be easing,”_ Leila remarks nonchalantly as she pulls out some pots and pans and tuts at Nicky’s spice cabinet. (Because who is Joe kidding? Is this really his kitchen at this point?) Joe blinks at his mother’s use of Dutch before understanding. Though he’s taught Basim and Amani Arabic, he doesn’t have a particular attachment to Dutch so he hasn’t done the same with that language. 

“ _You and I must’ve watched two vastly different sledding trips,”_ he replies ruefully. 

Joe withers under his mother’s stern frown. “ _A year ago the concept of him sledding alone would’ve turned him nonverbal,”_ she says, tone chastising. Joe gulps and accepts a knife and some zucchinis, knowing she’s right. Before he can turn to the counter his chin is tilted so Joe gazes into warm, placid eyes. “ _I’m so proud of all you’ve done for these children habibi.”_

“Mama-” Joe mumbles, before faltering, not knowing what else to say. 

Soft hands frame his cheeks. “ _Monique would be proud too,”_ she adds softly.

Joe has to blink several times to keep the tears welling up from falling. Clearing his throat Joe nods. _“I hope so,”_ he finally rasps. Kissing his forehead, Leila returns to sorting out the ingredients with efficiency born from years in the kitchen.

“What?!” Mehdi exclaims. Joe and Leila turn from their prep to find Mehdi gaping at Nicky who is smugly dancing a bishop along his knuckles. They both wince; that’s Mehdi’s favourite piece. Mehdi gazes at it mournfully as Nicky sets it down beside two pawns. 

Andy beams at Nicky. “Excellent move young padawan,” she states with approval like the dork she secretly is. Mehdi turns his accusing gaze to Andy who smirks lazily. “Taught him everything I know.” Muttering darkly under his breath, Mehdi turns back to the board, brows furrowed with concentration. Joe and Leila swap glances. Well, this should be interesting. 

_"Those two seem like lovely women,”_ Leila comments, setting up a cutting board beside Joe despite the cramped kitchen as they begin chopping up the vegetables. While Mehdi has been laying it on thick about getting a guest room, Leila has made some passing comments about how nice it would be to have an upgraded kitchen that has actual space to cook. They’re both ridiculous. (Even if the prospect of owning a house with Nicky fills Joe’s stomach with a certain kind of butterflies.) 

_”They’re terrors are what they are,”_ Joe mutters with a fond quirk of his lips, making Leila huff with amusement.

“Auntie can we do your nails next?” Amani mumbles as she blinks at where Fawzia is painting on a bright blue. 

“Maybe when you’re not half asleep katkouti,” she replies with amusement. 

“Not tired,” Amani replies stubbornly as she yawns. Joe smiles fondly at his daughter’s stubbornness while Basim's head begins to droop on Quỳnh's shoulder. There will definitely be a nap in both children’s futures. 

“ _You’ll keep us updated about her testing and progress, yes?”_ Leila prompts, dropping the zucchini, yellow squash, tomatoes, potatoes, and chile pepper in a skillet. It didn’t take Joe long to realise what his mum wanted to make; it’s become a bit of a talent at this point in his life. At least kaftaji won’t _completely_ turn Nicky’s face red with its heat. Leila only looked slightly guilty the first night when she cooked with enough of a kick for even Joe to feel it. Joe can’t blame her for not feeling too bad though because Nicky eating something spicy is a pretty entertaining sight. 

“ _Of course Mama,”_ Joe murmurs, gulping at the reminder of what Amani will be facing after break. Besides some comments back and forth, they both fall into contented silence after that as they bustle and move through the kitchen as they’ve done countless times before. Though Joe never caught the cooking bug like his mum or Nicky, he finds a certain joy in it when he gets to do it with others. 

By the time lunch is ready Nicky and Mehdi are still knee deep in their game, hunched over the board in silent competition. Joe huffs out an amused breath. Looks like they’ll have to heat lunch up later; he knows better than to interrupt Nicky or his father when either of them are in competition mode. Perhaps letting them play against each other wasn’t the wisest decision. 

Lunch is a pretty quiet affair overall, Amani and Basim snuggled on the couch with Fawzia, Andy, and Quỳnh while Joe takes the floor and Leila the armchair. Nicky and Mehdi don’t look up from their game once. 

“As much as we would love to stay longer, we gotta be off,” Quỳnh sighs regretfully as she scrapes the last lick of food from her plate. “Got some deliveries we need to sort out for the bar.” 

Lifting a half asleep Amani from her lap, Andy silences her protests with a peck of her cheek. “We’ll see ya soon, k squirt?” she promises. Amani mumbles something in her ear that makes Andy quirk her lips and turn to Joe. “Mind if I tuck this one in? She’s asking for a story.” 

Joe’s heart warms at how much love his two children are surrounded by. “Of course,” he nods with a soft smile. 

Basim silently reaches up for Quỳnh who lifts him into her arms as Andy does the same for Amani. “What do you think, em ơi?” Quỳnh prompts, brushing a wayward curl from Basim’s face. “Time for a nap?” She smiles softly as Basim nods into her chest and Quỳnh and Andy slip down the hall with their loads. 

As they go Joe turns to the game that is still in full swing with no sign of an easy winner. Slipping onto the couch and taking a sip of some tea, Joe sighs contentedly. Maybe he’ll do some sketching while he waits them out. 

_”Wanna place bets on who’ll win?”_ Fawzia asks, raising a challenging brow at Joe as she props her feet on his lap.

Joe grins viciously. _“You’re on.”_ Oh he is _so_ gonna win this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look!!! I finally ended a chapter that doesn’t happen at night when everyone goes to sleep!! I’m so proud of myself!! On another note every time I write a scene with more than four people I regret my life decisions. Why. Why do I do this to myself? Anyway, hope you enjoyed?
> 
>  **em ơi:** Vietnamese for “my dear” which can be a casual or familial term. 
> 
> **ayech weldi:** dear son (Arabic)
> 
>  **Katkouti:** my chick (Egyptian dialect of Arabic that’s also used in Tunisia)
> 
> As always, please correct me if I’ve made a mistake!
> 
> Resource: https://arabskaya-devushka.tumblr.com/tagged/tunisian-arabic


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